#maybe its for the best that the last issue before that long break is a more casual story that wont leave us on a cliffhanger | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wonlovie · 8 months

Text

— ALWAYS.

After being broken up with, the cherry on top was receiving an invitation to your ex-boyfriend's wedding, leaving you breaking at the seams. Luckily for you, your childhood best friend is there to keep you together.

— starring. childhood bestfriend!jake x fem!reader ft. the slightest appearance of niki, mentions of ex!heeseung and le sserafim's chaewon (she was the first one i thought of LOL)

— tags. friends-to-lovers, slowburn, minor angst, jake is highkey a thigh guy, road trip!!, the oh-no-there's-only-one-bed trope several times over, smut [fem. masturbation while in the same bed, vaginal fingering, oral (f. receiving), handjob, very soft-dom!jake, first time, praising, unprotected sex, reader cries, use of petnames (princess, pretty girl, baby; he also calls you a whore/slut like,, twice) kind of but not really fwb situation [MINORS DNI]]

— word count. 14.3k

— notes. this is the first fic i've posted here!! i also started writing this like,, the day i got covid so if some sentences make zero sense it's because i was loopy af lmAOO on another note jake??? sim jake??? writing this wasnt good for my heart bc he was driving me insane the whOLE TIME

SIXTEEN DAYS.

When you got the invitation in the mail, a single piece of cardstock carefully decorated with ornate blue lace and beautifully handwritten script, you had half the mind to ignore it. Throw it in the trash, maybe. If the sender asked, you could feign innocence. It got lost in the mail, and perhaps I never received it at all.

Unfortunately for you, your conscience kicked you swiftly in the ass before you could even step on your trash bin pedal.

Begrudgingly, you really had no choice but to go. After all, it was your cousin’s wedding—a day you had both raved about since you were young children. You could still recall the silly Pinterest boards you put together, regrettably filled with tacky and outdated decor. Your cousin, Chaewon, even called you before the invitation was sent to your box, her excited voice crawling out of your phone speaker and taunting you with sharp licks against your ear.

You should be happy. Really, you should. Aside from Lemon, your newly adopted Jindo puppy, Chaewon was your favourite. Despite moving across the country for university, you were there for her as she was for you. Not a single day went by without an hour-long phone call between the two of you, filled to the brim with conversation or spent in peaceful silence.

The issue wasn’t Chaewon. No, it was far worse than that. The issue was her husband-to-be, a man you despised with every cell of your being.

Lee Heeseung. In other words, your ex.

It was jarring for you to see the very man who seemed to date you out of pity, never truly initiating intimacy or even trying to pretend to be interested in the things you’d tell him, be so sweet to Chaewon. You had, unfortunately, witnessed their love firsthand on multiple occasions. The longing glances, the whispered sweet nothings, the subtle caresses when they thought no one was looking.

You hated how bitter you felt about it. His last words to you felt like they were tattooed onto your eyelids.

“I’m sorry, but… I don’t think we should date anymore. I think I’ve found someone else.”

Of course, you were heartbroken. Heeseung was your first boyfriend and your first love. You had tried so damn hard to be the receiver of his affections, but your efforts always fell short. The next week, Chaewon approached you with tears brimming her eyes, begging for forgiveness; you knew that whatever you had with Heeseung was officially history.

Chaewon, the angel, denied his advances until you pushed her to say yes, as you knew she wanted to.

And now, your decision had come full circle, the ugly truth rearing its head at you. Your feelings for Heeseung were long gone, but with the breakup came a hundred insecurities you didn’t know you had, hence the big move. Maybe with space, you could heal.

“Stupid,” you whispered as your eyes scanned the invitation for the nth time in the past ten minutes. You rubbed harshly at your eyes, forcing the tears away. With a shaking finger, you traced the wedding date, briefly glancing up at the dog calendar that hung on the wall next to your fridge.

Gingerly dropping the invitation onto the kitchen counter, you quietly counted the days left. The wedding was just over two weeks away, a beautiful August wedding. You don’t know how long you stood there, goosebumps prickling on your thighs as the morning air brushed against them. Your oversized tee did little to combat the cold.

A quiet knocking at the door made you jump. Swearing under your breath, you swiped at your cheeks to rid any evidence of tears. You shuffled to the front door and peeked through the peephole. A man stood there, hands in his jeans pockets, as he waited for you to answer. However, his head was down, which blocked his face from view.

When you didn’t answer right away, he knocked again just as gently as he had before. This time, though, he called out your name.

Startled, you paused with your hands pressed against the door, eyes still pressed against the peephole. You knew that voice, instantly recognizing the accent that spilled into his words. Pulling the door open, your suspicions were correct when you were met with your childhood best friend, Jake.

A wide grin pulled at the corners of your lips as you looked the man up and down. “Holy shit,” you started, laughter in your voice. “What are you doing here?” Stepping back to let him in, you eyed his wide shoulders as he bent over to untie his shoes. “You never said you were coming to visit.”

Jake lazily smiled up at you as he tugged off the last shoe. His eyes drifted down for a second, catching sight of your bare legs. Not a moment later, he averted them. “Damn, hello to you too, sweets.” When he stood to his full height, he leaned into a comfortable slouch, shoving his hands into the pockets of his well-worn jeans. “Chaewon didn’t tell you?” He tilted his head at you in question.

Shaking your head no, you headed to the kitchen where you left your phone. Finding your chatroom with Chaewon, you scanned the contents quickly. “Look—”

You turned to show Jake your previous texts, but as you swivelled on your heel, you hadn’t expected him to be so close. You jumped slightly, the small of your back pressing into the cool countertop as Jake hovered over you, seemingly inches away. You could practically count his every lash from your angle, not missing how his eyes scanned your face.

Apparently, he didn’t expect to be so close either, as the tips of his ears reddened. “My bad,” as he moved to give you space. He pushed back his hair—when had he dyed it blonde?— to see your screen better. Reading quickly, he snorted at Chaewon’s lack of warning for his arrival, her last message simply being: ;).

“I thought you knew I’d be coming, so I didn’t bother sending a text,” he explained. “Chae wants me to be your escort to the wedding.”

“My what?”

Jake grinned at you, flashing his pearly whites. “Y’know, your stead. Your chauffeur. Your knight in shining armour, if you will.”

“Those aren’t the same in the slightest, Jake.”

“You get what I mean, sweets.”

You hummed, resting your palms atop the counter by your sides. “Why so early, though? The wedding isn’t for a couple of weeks.” He opened his mouth to say something, but a sharp yip from your bedroom interrupted him. You practically watched as elation flooded his senses when he spun on the spot, searching for the sound source.

Pushing yourself off the counter, you lightly bumped his shoulder with your own as you manoeuvred around him. “Looks like someone’s awake,” you sang as you headed down the hall. You could hear Jake’s heavier, sock-clad footsteps following you into your bedroom as you called out for Lemon.

The little pup bounded toward you, jumping from your bed with a tail that wagged so fast you were concerned she’d sprain it. With her tongue out, she hopped on her hind legs, unsure of whether she should greet you or Jake first. “Lemon, this is Jake,” you introduced as you picked her up. Gently moving her paw in a waving motion, you smiled at him. “Jake, this is the love of my life, Lemon.”

He sent you a teasing smile, “I thought that was my title.” You flushed at the unexpected remark. Before you could respond, he turned to Lemon with a soft expression. “Hi, Lemon. Hope you’re taking good care of sweets for me.” Cooing at the pup, he booped her nose.

Without a word, you motioned for him to follow you back to the living room, situating yourself on the small leather couch worn from years of hand-me-down use. Lemon hopped off your lap, her tail wagging as she beckoned Jake to sit down. He was quick to join you, sitting close enough for your knees to touch when Jake shifted his body to face you. You scanned him up and down.

He’d changed a bit, clearly, since the last you saw him. He wasn’t nearly as scrawny as before, his broad frame apparent from under his unzipped jacket. He had lost the baby fat in his cheeks, leaving behind a sharp jawline. The biggest change to note was his hair. Long gone were the black tresses, and in their place were soft blond locks.

In other words, he was hot.

“When did this happen?” you asked as he shrugged his jacket off, reaching up to twist a strand with your finger. “It looks good on you.”

Jake sent you a teasing look, the corners of his lips tugging upwards. “You would’ve known I went blond like a month and a half ago if you actually read your messages,” he chided, clicking his tongue. His eyes stayed on you, flitting across your face.

“Whatever,” you hushed, “I’ve just been busy with school.” It's a lie, but he doesn’t need to know that. No one needed to know that you’ve spent the last few months acting like a heartbroken teen when you were a grown adult. Despite Jake having seen the worst parts of you in high school, you still wanted him to hold some esteem for you.

For a second, it was quiet aside from Lemon’s quiet sniffing, her nose working quickly on Jake’s discarded coat. Jake held eye contact with you, a silent question reflected in his eyes.

“It’s still weird to me.”

Raising a brow, you rested your elbow on the back of the couch, resting your head against your palm. “What is?”

He stayed silent for a minute before leaning back against the couch, turning his head slightly to face you. “I can’t just walk down the block to annoy you now. Now, you’re four hours away unless I want to spend a few hundred on a plane ticket.” He stuck out his tongue, “‘Dunno why you didn’t stay.” His voice was light, teasing, but you could hear a slight edge to his words.

You huffed, “You know exactly why I left.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything. When Heeseung broke up with you, Jake was the first one you told. Despite being an incoherent, blubbering mess over the phone, he came the instant he heard the first sob rack your body. That night, he held you without a word until your tears ran dry.

“You still hung up about it?”

Pausing, you shook your head. “No,” you bit your lip, not catching the way his eyes darted down to watch, “not anymore, anyway. I don’t feel anything for Heeseung if that’s what you’re asking.” You cracked a sardonic smile at him, punching his shoulder and chuckling when Lemon followed your movement. “Not that pathetic yet, Jake.”

He fully turned his body to you, the leather couch squeaking under his shifting weight. His golden hair fell into his eyes as he bore into yours. “I was there, remember?” His voice was gentle as if he was worried he’d scare you off. “I know it hurt more than you’re letting on. It wasn’t that long ago.”

You silently cursed him for still being able to read you so well, even after so long apart. Absentmindedly, you tugged on the hem of your shirt, playing with the edge that was starting to fray after years of use. Jake leaned forward, placing a warm hand on your bare thigh. “I’ll be there the whole time. If you want me to, I’ll stay right beside you the whole night.”

Your eyes darted to where his large hand rested on your skin, swallowing harshly. “Yeah,” you whispered, looking back up at him through your lashes. “That’d be… really nice, Jake.” You shakily exhaled; his proximity and his touch made your every nerve go haywire. Since when did Jake, your best friend since you were in diapers, have this effect on you? Looking up at the mop of messy blond on his head, you blamed the change in colour.

Jake didn’t say anything for a while but never moved his hand. The two of you sat there, staring into each other's eyes. Lemon had long ago gotten comfy in the small space between you, round eyes closed in rest. “I’ll always be there for you, you know that, right?” He said finally, voice barely above a whisper.

You could only nod, your every thought directed to the hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing circles on the inside of your leg.

You offered Jake your shower while you went to get his luggage from his car. At first, he refused, telling you that he could get the luggage himself and take a shower afterward, but you had practically shoved him into the bathroom, claiming he smelt bad from the drive.

Truthfully, he smelt good as ever, having always possessed an addicting scent to you.

Besides, this way, you could clear your head with some fresh air as you left and headed to your apartment parking lot. Easily spotting his car, much newer than any of the models your neighbours had, you jogged over to it. Once inside, you noted how clean the car was, coming as somewhat of a surprise to you. A carwash receipt peaked out from the middle console.

Lugging his suitcase out from the backseat, you were quick to make your way back, lest Jake be left without clothes for too long. Shutting your front door behind you, you nearly let out a scream when, on cue, Jake emerged from a cloud of steam, donning only your fluffy blue towel. He hadn’t noticed you yet, using another towel to shake out the excess water from his hair.

Unknowingly, your eyes followed a bead of water as it trailed down his toned body, disappearing under the towel that threatened to unravel itself, sending your mind into a frenzy. Turning around before he could realize that you were ogling at him like some pervert, you cleared your throat. “Got your suitcase,” you forced out. “You can change in my room if you want.”

“Ah, thanks, sweets.” You listened for his footsteps, tensing as they came closer. “Why so shy?” He inquired with a chuckle at the tip of his tongue. “‘S not like you’ve never seen me naked before.”

“Jake, we were five.”

“Still,” he laughed. You were startled when he patted your shoulder, gently turning you to face him more. You swallowed harshly at the sight of his naked chest up close. “Joking. Thanks for grabbing my stuff.” Without another word, he turned around and disappeared behind your bedroom door.

Letting out a breath, you pressed your forehead against the cool surface of your front door, holding a hand over your heart. Lemon’s tiny paws brought her over to you, the click clicks of her nails against the hardwood taking your attention away from your thoughts. She looked up at you, her head tilted as though she was questioning you. “I must be going crazy, huh?” You knelt down to let her jump on you, her front paws pressing into your leg.

“Layla’d love her,” Jake’s voice interrupted. You looked up to see him dressed in comfy attire, a dim disappointment settling in your stomach. “You hungry? I can order something for us.”

Rolling your eyes, you stood up. “You’re my guest, Jake. I can order.” You pulled out your phone and open a delivery app. Before you could get too far, the phone was taken from your grasp, left in Jake’s palm as he stared at you in challenge.

With a shake of his head, he denied you. “I may be your guest, but you’re also housing me for two weeks. Plus, I haven’t seen you in forever.” He hunched over to meet your eyes, “My treat. You can pay next time, promise.”

By the time the food arrived, you and Jake had settled in on the couch, a random movie playing on the TV. Quiet chatter filled the space. The movie had already been forgotten, acting as mere background noise to your conversation. You dug into your food without missing a beat, covering your mouth to retort whenever Jake would make a jab at you.

“You never got to answer my question,” you prompted, putting down your chopsticks and resting the take-out container on the coffee table. “Why’d you come so early? Why not closer to the wedding?”

You watched Jake pause, his expression unreadable. “Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to see you?” he asked, voice low as he turned to look at you. His blond hair had been pushed up and back so many times strands framed his face, allowing you to see all of it. “Because I do,” he continued, shrugging as if he weren’t making your heart race, “I want to see you. All the time.”

Unsure of how to respond, you sputtered for a moment before turning away, your cheeks warm. “I’ve wanted to see you too,” you mumbled, “so thanks. For coming.”

“For you? Always.”

Rolling your eyes, you bumped Jake with your shoulder. “When did you get so cheesy?”

Jake pulled his lower lip under his teeth for a second, biting at the plump flesh as he mulled over an answer. “Just missed you, is all.”

Nodding, you turned your head to watch the rest of the movie. It was confusing since neither of you watched the first half. Beside you, Jake turned to do the same. If either of you noticed how the space between you had become nonexistent, thighs and shoulders pressed together, no one said a word. You couldn’t complain, enjoying how Jake’s warmth seeped through his clothes and into your skin.

Without realizing it, the both of you fell asleep. The TV had gone dark after hours of inactivity, the moon lighting up the room with a dark hue. Jake awoke first, grumbling when his neck had a familiar ache in it. But when he went to roll his shoulder, something was in the way. Or rather, someone. He turned, pursing his lips to stay quiet as he realized you were leaning on him.

Your legs were draped over his own, something you must’ve done in your sleep. Or maybe it was him searching for a source of warmth in the coolness of the night. His arm was wrapped around your shoulder, your head fitting directly in the crook of his neck. He felt his skin burn as he swore quietly. Pulling out his phone, he glanced at the time.

3:02 a.m.

As slowly as he could, he hooked one arm under your knees and the other around your back. Standing, he hoped his racing heart wouldn’t wake you. Jake maneuvered the dark apartment as best he could without accidentally hitting your head against the walls of your hallway. Luckily, you left your bedroom door open, so he didn’t need to figure that out somehow.

Lemon was already asleep, curled up on your left pillow. Carefully, he laid you down on the bed, pushing away stray hairs on your face afterward. He stayed there for a moment, staring at your peaceful expression. His heart warmed, a tingly feeling in his belly erupting at the sight of you. He tugged the blanket over your body, pressing a finger to his lips when Lemon startled awake.

Tucking you in, he hovered for a minute before pressing a soft kiss against your forehead. “Night, sweets,” he whispered before moving to his feet. Before he could get very far, a hand shot out from under the blanket and weakly grasped at his wrist. Turning, Jake held a breath at the sight of your sleepy eyes gazing up at him. “Only have one bed,” you slurred, sleep taking over your speech. “Sleep here.”

Jake balked at you, hands subconsciously balling at his sides. “Are you sure? I can sleep on the couch—”

“No! Sleep here.” You didn’t give him much room to argue as you scooted backwards to give him some room before lifting the blanket in invitation. This movement bugged Lemon, clearly, as she moved from your pillow to lay in the nook of your bent legs. “Come on, we’ve slept in the same bed before.”

Swallowing at the sight of you, eyes barely open and shirt riding up further than he could handle, Jake relented, knowing you would keep arguing with him until daylight. The last time we slept in the same bed, you were bawling your eyes out over Heeseung, he stopped himself from saying. The thought lingered as he crawled in next to you, keeping a respectful distance.

Satisfied, you allowed your heavy lids to close, a small, contented smile painted on your lips. “G’night, Jake.”

He sighed. “Good night, sweets.”

You fell asleep instantly, hand resting on the pillow in front of your face. Jake mirrored your position, your pinkies centimetres from touching. He observed the slow rise and fall of your chest and the occasional sniffs when your hair would fall and tickle your nose. His eyes traced your every feature, from the curve of your cheek to your supple lips.

Jake did not sleep well that night.

FOURTEEN DAYS.

Two days after Jake had made an appearance, he quickly fell into a routine with you. He would wake up first and have a cup of coffee ready for you whenever you’d sleepily bound into the kitchen. A bowl of cereal would already be sitting on the counter, the jug of milk sitting beside it. Your mornings were quiet as you both woke up, only a raspy “good morning” before you’d sit in silence over your bowls.

It had been a long time since you had such normalcy, and you’d be lying if you said you hated it.

“Hey,” he started, only half done chewing his cereal. “We have, like, two weeks left until we actually need to be in Seoul, right?”

You eyed him suspiciously for his cheery tone so early in the morning. Swallowing your food first, you nodded. “Yeah, but Chae wants us back at least two days before in case things need fixing or whatever.” Sipping your coffee, you raised a brow at him, “Why?”

Grinning at you, he leaned over to grab your arm in excitement. Your eyes darted to where you connected, noting how his thumb immediately started rubbing the inside of your wrist, making you cross your legs under the table. “Let’s make our trip back a road trip!”

You blinked. “Jake. You drove here—it was already going to be a road trip to go back.”

Jake threw his head back in a groan, inadvertently showing you his Adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down. You followed the movement down to his wide shoulders before looking away a second before he straightened up to meet eyes with you. “Dummy, I know that. Let’s make it a fun road trip with loads of stops and everything!” He talked animatedly, waving his hands with reckless abandon. “There are lots of small towns and pitstops on the way to Seoul, but we’ve never actually explored them.”

“How do you know I haven’t?”

Jake looked at you as if you had grown two heads. “If you have and I wasn’t invited, your best friend card is being revoked this instant. You hear me? Revoked.”

Laughing, you stood and grabbed both of your empty bowls. “Fine, we can have your fun road trip. You’re doing all the planning, though, since it was your idea.” You tilted his coffee mug toward you to see if he had finished it, placing it back where it was when you saw the brown liquid still swirling inside. He followed you to the sink, sleeves already rolled up when you placed the porcelain into the basin.

You didn’t say anything when he gently pulled you to the side and grabbed the sponge to start cleaning. “I already have the route!” He told you, not taking his eyes off the dishes. “It’s in my phone. You can look—it’s in the notes app.” Peaking at you through his lashes, he nodded his head in the general direction of where he left his phone. “Password’s still the same.”

You snorted, picking it up from the table before joining him at the sink, hopping up on the counter beside him. As you entered your birthyear into the phone, you didn’t catch the way he eyes your thighs, your shorts doing little to nothing to cover up the way they flattened slightly against the cool marble. “Y’know,” you started, ripping him out of his thoughts, ushering him to quickly place the bowls and spoons onto your drying rack. “This is a shitty password. You’re gonna get robbed one day.”

He shrugged, pulling the hand towel off your oven’s handle to dry his hands. You watched him, silently ogling at the veins that popped out in his forearms when he turned to replace the towel. “Maybe, but it’s important to me.”

“My birth year?”

He grinned at you with a simple nod, standing between your thighs. His eyes fell to them once more when you absentmindedly spread your legs to give him room to stand. Biting the inside of his cheek, he shakily rested his palms on either side of you, moving slow enough for you to object if you were uncomfortable. "It's the year my favourite person was born, after all." You didn’t say anything, instead looking back at his phone screen.

He watched as your eyes flit back and forth as you read, his fingers itching to move closer to you, to touch your skin. He opted to curl his fingers until his nails dug into his palms. “When did you figure this out?” You asked, smiling at the title of the note.

Sweets and Jake’s Road Trip !!!

“Last night, while you slept.”

You shot him a look, searching for eye bags. You were relieved when you didn’t see any, but you punched his shoulder nonetheless. “Idiot. If you can’t sleep, you can wake me, you know? You don’t have to stay up by yourself.” You placed a hand on his forearm, rubbing your thumb over a jutting vein just as he had to you moments before.

His urge to touch you grew stronger, and he felt his mental fortitude crumbling at the contact. Clearing his throat, Jake shrugged. “You’re cute when you sleep, princess. Didn’t want to wake you.” Moving away before your scent could drive him any more insane, he rubbed the back of his neck. “So? What’s the verdict?”

Lips parted from his casual slip of a nickname you’d never heard from him before, you dumbly nodded. “Good. It’s good. Let’s do it.” You hopped down from the counter, Jake’s hands immediately moving to steady you once you got on your feet. “When do we leave?”

Jake grinned at you, revealing his canines. “Whenever you’re ready, sweets.”

You returned the smile, excitement starting to affect you. “Let’s get ready then, shall we?”

It didn’t take either of you very long to get your suitcases and essentials put together. Jake had mostly kept his things in his suitcase, only pulling out clothes he needed for the day or toiletries that you didn’t have any to spare. Two toothbrushes sat in a cup instead of the usual one, and the sight made you grin as you collected your things. Chaewon had your dress up in Seoul, so you didn’t need to worry about any of that either.

An hour after Jake proposed the road trip, he was waiting outside, one hand clasped over both of your luggage handles, the other holding Lemon’s carrier as you locked the door. The two of you walked out to his car in silence, the crisp morning air making you shiver under your thin jacket. “It’s still summer,” you complained in a long drawl, “why is it so fucking cold in the morning?”

Jake laughed at you, thanking you when you opened the back door of his car for him and carefully slid the luggage and carrier in. “Relax, princess, I’ll turn the heat on just for you, yeah?”

You grumbled at his teasing, taking your spot in the passenger seat without a word as he held the door open for you. You watched him jog around the car to reach his side, never taking your eyes off him as he fiddled with the A/C. As he turned the ignition on, he handed you his phone. “Put something on for me, will you?”

As he drove, you noted the fact that he drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the middle console. His arms were exposed in the black tee he wore, seemingly not as affected by the cold as you were. You willed yourself not to notice how the shirt was unfairly form-fitting, wrapping around the bulk of his bicep in a way that was sending you spinning.

The first stop was five minutes away from your apartment as Jake pulled into the parking lot of a nearby convenience store. Jake unrolled the windows a bit for Lemon, telling her to be good as the both of you exited the vehicle. Once inside, you shivered at how strong the store had its A/C running.

Eyeing you, Jake sent you a smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll be quick.”

Without another word, you followed as Jake made his way through the different aisles, picking up snacks that you easily recognized as some of your favourites. Even grabbing a heat pack, he waved it at you teasingly. “Weirdo, needing a heat pack in the middle of August.”

You sputtered, “Wha— I never asked you to—”

Interrupting you with a bark of a laugh, he shook his head. “Just poking fun. C’mon, let’s go. Lemon’s probably waiting for us.” You huffed but didn’t argue as he pulled you to the front cashier by the hand. You trained your sight on your connected hands, moving them so your fingers interlaced. Jake briefly looked down at what you’d done, but if it bothered him, he didn’t say anything.

“Oh, it’s you!”

To both your surprise and Jake’s, the cashier’s eyes lit up when he saw you. “We had English together,” he filled in when you didn’t seem to recognize him. “We were in a group project together for the final?” You blinked a few times before making a noise of recognition.

“Riki! Sorry, I didn’t recognize you with the new hair,” you explained, glancing at his newly dark brown hair. “It was blond before. Looks good now, though!” You gave him a thumbs up. Before he could reply beside you, Jake cleared his throat. Both you and Riki looked at him, realizing that the latter hadn’t even started ringing your items through, and there was a bit of a line behind you.

Riki immediately started scanning the snacks Jake had brought, never taking his eyes off you. “What’re you up to this summer? I haven’t seen you at all since the semester ended.”

You hummed, “My cousin’s wedding is in two weeks, so Jake and I—” You nudged him, not noticing how quiet he had gotten. “—are driving back to Seoul right after this.”

The younger boy nodded, glancing over at Jake before looking down at your hands. You forgot they were still intertwined, but Jake's grip tightened when you went to let go. You dropped your head to hide how warm your cheeks felt, biting your lip lightly. “Ah,” Riki put down the scanning gun, his tone noticeably less happy. “₩9000, please.”

Jake threw a few crumpled notes on the counter before bowing his head slightly in goodbye, tugging you toward the exit wordlessly. You waved at Riki over your shoulder before walking quickly to fall in step with Jake. “You okay? You were quiet in there, and then you pulled us out like that.”

Jake only nodded, carelessly tossing the bag of snacks into the back with your luggage. “Here,” he tossed you the heat pack, already cracked and warming up. He opened your door again without further explanation before taking his own seat.

You stared at his profile in confusion, the heat pack already doing its job on your frigid hands. As he pulled back onto the road, you glanced at his hand, which rested over the middle console as it had before.

Curiously, you turned his wrist until his palm was facing upward. Jake watched you from the corner of his eye, only turning his head when he reached a red light. He hadn’t expected you to put your hand in his, interlocking your fingers once again. “Your hands are warmer,” you mumbled, leaning back to get comfortable. In shock, Jake hadn’t taken his eyes off of you.

Smiling tightly at him, you squeezed his hand. “The light’s green.”

Snapping his head forward, he coughed as he focused on the road. For the next while, your hand would stay in his. The ride to the next town was spent in silence, with you mouthing the lyrics to songs you recognized from his playlists.

In Jake’s phone, he had written that you were to stay at motels in towns along the way. When you protested at the cost it would be, he simply argued with it’s for the experience, sweets. And no worries! I’m paying for the whole trip. And when you argued with that last bit, he only replied, if I see your wallet at all, I might have to fight you.

Your first real stop was in a small fishing village, the last coastal town you’d see before you started driving inland. The morning chill was gone, replaced with the comforting warmth of the summer sun. Despite that, you didn’t let go of Jake’s hand until you had to get out of the car. Stretching your limbs, you groaned when you felt and heard some joints pop.

You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes as you took in the smell of the ocean and the distant chatter of nearby townspeople. The motel Jake brought you to was a little rundown; it was obvious that it had been around for quite some time. The paint was peeling a bit, and the shingles on the roof made it look dated, but it had a cozy feel to it. Besides, it was the only dog-friendly motel in the area, so you couldn’t afford to be choosy.

“Hello,” the old woman at the receptionist's desk greeted you kindly, eyes shifting from you to Jake. You smiled at her, bowing your head in respect. Besides you, Jake did the same with that easygoing grin of his. “How may I help you?”

“A room for two, please,” said Jake.

The woman nodded, looking over at the remaining room keys. Grabbing one, she handed it over to you before telling Jake how much it’d cost. As Jake fumbled with his wallet, the old woman looked at you fondly. “You two are precious,” she informed you with an air of nostalgia, her wrinkled hand resting atop her chest over her heart. “I remember when me and my late husband were your age.”

You blushed at her insinuation that you and Jake were together but found that the idea wasn’t as jarring as you thought it’d be. You couldn’t tell if Jake didn’t catch the comment or chose not to reply as he handed her the money she needed.

It wasn’t hard to find your room out of the ten total, and you were pleased to see that the coziness of the outside continued inside. Jake wheeled your luggage in while you opened Lemon’s carrier, letting her roam free in the room, sniffing the foreign air. The room itself wasn’t too big, consisting of the main room that could only fit a single queen bed and not much else and a bathroom that was longer than it was wide.

“It’s like we’re teens again,” you giggled at Jake, shrugging off your jacket. “We’re sharing beds often.”

Jake let out a breath at the realization that there really was only one bed again and nodded stiffly. He supposed that was his fault for not mentioning how many beds you needed. “I guess so,” he gazed at you tenderly. “You sure you don’t mind?”

You rolled your eyes at him, “You can cut the gentleman act with me, Jake. If I minded, I would’ve said something already. We shared a bed in my apartment, remember?”

Of course I remember, he thought, it was driving me crazy.

In truth, Jake hasn’t been able to sleep because of how cuddly you were in your sleep. He’d purposely lay as far as he could from you so as not to give in to any temptations, but it seemed like you had other plans whenever you laid your head to rest. Not two minutes after he’d heard your soft snores, your hands were reaching for him, pulling you closer to his torso until you were snuggled up against him.

He may have only been staying with you for two days, but he’s had to take just as many cold showers before you woke up.

“Do you wanna go on a walk?” you asked once the two of you settled. Lemon sat by your feet, circling them by looping under the chair you sat on to entertain herself. “It’d be nice to venture out! I think poor Lemon’s a bit restless from the carrier.” You bent over to rub behind her ears, to which she let out a yip of approval.

Jake smiled softly at the sight before nodding. “Let’s go, then.”

Thankfully, Lemon was an off-leash dog and stayed close by as you walked the streets of an unfamiliar town. In the distance, seagulls cried out to each other as fishing boats pushed off from the harbour. The sound of the sea lulled you into a peaceful reverie. You and Jake walked side by side, fingers brushing against each other every so often.

“It’s nice here,” you mumbled, “we should have done this sooner.”

Jake hummed, the low noise rattling in your ears. You closed your eyes as you walked, fully trusting Jake to guide you if you were going to walk into anything. He smiled softly at the sight of your relaxed demeanour, moving to hold your hand. You walked in silence for a bit before you reached the shore. Jake spotted some beach chairs, pulling you along. Lemon bounded ahead, happy to have room to run. You cracked open your eyes in time to see her jump into the water, barking happily as she entertained herself.

“Next time, you should bring Layla,” you suggested as you sat down.

Jake smiled down at your hands. “Yeah, next time.”

Silence fell upon you, but it wasn’t unwelcome. You both watched Lemon as she played in the water, occasionally coming up to bring you a rock she had found before hopping back into the puddles the tide was creating. All the while, your hands stayed clasped, with Jakes's thumb rubbing familiar circles on the back of your palm.

“Why did you move so far?”

You halted, your smile slipping. “You asked me already.”

“But you weren’t being completely truthful with me.” He looked at you, concern shining in his eyes. “You’re not over it, are you?”

The topic dampened your mood, your heart rate rising as you avoided eye contact. “I told you already, Jake. I don’t love Heeseung anymore. I’m fine,” you pressed, lying through your teeth. Lying to Jake always left a bitter taste in your mouth, as you knew he could tell immediately that it wasn’t the truth. “What kind of cousin would I be if I were still in love with her groom-to-be?”

Jake’s frown deepened. “You have the right to be hurt—”

“But I’m not! So drop it.” Your outburst garnered the attention of a few townspeople who were out and about, causing you to flush in embarrassment. Lowering your voice, you stared down at the rocky beach, digging your dirtied trainers into the course sand. “I’m fine.”

Unbelieving, Jake continued, “It’s just… I thought you had enough reason to stay.”

His words made you look up, annoyed at how much he was pressing the topic on you. “Clearly, I didn’t.” Shaking your head, you dropped his hand before standing to your feet and dusting off imaginary dirt from your pants. You looked down at him, a mistake as you were forced to look at his hurt expression, lip trembling as he stared up at you open-mouthed. “I’m going back.”

He only watched your back as you walked away, beckoning Lemon to follow. The poor puppy got out of the water, shaking off the excess. She ran toward you but paused and looked back at Jake. She tilted her head as if she were asking Aren’t you coming? before running after you.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, shellshocked, until he realized that the sun was starting to set. Deciding he had been out there long enough, Jake slowly made his way back to the motel. When he got to your room, he hesitated, knowing that you could easily lock him out for the night if you were still upset with him since you had the only key.

Jake stood there, mulling over whether or not he should try knocking, but before he could even decide, the door opened. He was met with you, tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. “Don’t just stand there,” you opened the door more for him to come in. His heart broke at the sight of you and at how wet your voice sounded, as if you had just finished crying.

“Sweets, I’m sorry—”

You shook your head, holding up a hand to stop him. “No, you did… you did nothing wrong. I shouldn’t have exploded at you like that or left you alone out there.” You looked down in shame, gnawing at your bottom lip. “I’m sorry, Jake.”

He was quick to lift your chin with two fingers, keeping them there as he rested his other hand on your upper arm. “Hey, no, none of that. I shouldn’t have pushed you when you obviously didn’t want to talk about it.” He pushed your hair behind your ear before bringing you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around him, burying your head in his shoulder. He kissed the top of your head before muttering in your ear, “I’m sorry, sweets. I promise I won’t ask about it until you tell me you’re ready.”

You let go of the hug, but Jake kept you close in his arms. Looking into his eyes with welled-up tears, you pouted slightly, bringing his gaze downward. “You’re sure you’re not upset with me?”

“With you, never, sweets.”

You opened your mouth but closed it before you could say anything. Hugging him again, your voice came out muffled. “Wanna sleep.”

Jake chuckled at you, dropping his head in disbelief. “Okay.”

Not long after, you were both situated in bed, with Lemon lying at your feet like usual. As he had for nights before, Jake kept his distance, but you quickly changed that. For the first time, you cuddled up to him while you were awake, fully aware of your actions. Jake’s breath halted as he felt you nuzzle your face into the soft fabric of his tee, which smelt so strongly of him that it was all you could smell. “I love you,” you whispered into his skin, sending his brain into a frenzy. “You’re the bestest friend I could’ve ever asked for.”

Jake could practically hear the record screech in his head, gritting his teeth a bit before relaxing his jaw to leave another soft kiss against your temple. “I love you too, sweets.”

The day had exhausted him more than he’d realized. For the first time in two days, Jake found himself falling asleep right after you, holding you tightly against his chest.

You awoke to the feeling of something warm attached to your neck. A quiet moan escaped your lips when the something bit down. You felt large hands explore the expanse of your side, your sleeping shirt pushed far up. Something hard poked against your thigh as you angled your head upward.

Your eyes fluttered open as you realized it was Jake, groaning as he nipped at your skin, leaving behind blossoms of red and purple. You moved your hips closer to his, gasping when his growing hard-on made contact with your clothed sex. “Fuck, baby, you don’t know what you do to me,” he uttered, his deep voice going straight to your groin. Your panties, you were sure, were already soaked with your slick.

“Please,” you whined as he bit down harder, and his hand roamed higher, tracing the curve of the underside of your breast with his fingers. His mouth felt oh-so-hot on your skin, and his teasing touch did little to alleviate it. “Show me, Jake. Show me what I do to you.”

He pulled back, ignoring the noise of disappointment you made. His eyes looked impossibly dark as he hovered over you, chest heaving. “Be careful what you wish for, pretty girl.” He easily flipped you onto your back, slotting himself between your legs. You moaned loudly when he ground his hips against yours, allowing you to feel just how hard he’d gotten.

His lips met yours in a hungry kiss, tongue forcing itself past your lips to lick into your mouth. His hands moved wildly, pushing your shirt up until your breasts were fully uncovered, nipples pebbling in exposure to the cold air. “So beautiful,” he groaned into your ear as one hand kneaded your left breast. “Fuck, gonna make you mine, yeah? You want that?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed pathetically, a sob of need ripping through your throat as his free hand made its way to your shorts. “Please, Jake, need you so badly.”

He groaned again, pushing past the elastic waistband and guiding his fingers into your soaked panties. He moved down to collect your wetness and…

You breathed in harshly when you woke up, your heart racing faster than it ever had before. You blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness of the room, remembering where you were. Your chest heaved as you tried to calm yourself down, your face burning. Oh my god, you thought in slight mortification.

Jake’s arm rested over your middle, you realized, as he spooned you from behind. Your startle hadn’t woken him, his soft snores sounding in your ear canals. You were relieved that he wasn’t awake to ask why you woke up so violently because how were you to explain that it was because you were having a wet dream about him?

The dull feeling of disappointment had settled into your gut from having been interrupted before the dream could get good, a feeling that came with shame at how indisputable your horniness was. You’d never dreamed of Jake in such a light, but now you were worried that you wouldn’t be able to rid yourself of the sight of his eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure as he ground against you—

No. You need to stop.

Turning your head to groan into the pillow, you became hyper-aware of how wet you were, your panties sticking uncomfortably to your pussy. You pressed your legs together, silently willing the pulsing of your clit to calm down and let you fall asleep again. If you fall asleep, you might forget about this in the morning.

“Stop moving,” Jake’s tired voice scared you, making you jump. He used his arm to pull you closer against him, your hand against your mouth to stop yourself from making any noise. Not long after, you heard his deep breaths again, signalling that he’d fallen asleep.

Fuck, you were screwed. You closed your eyes tightly, but all you could think about was how firm and warm he felt. Pressed against him like this, you could almost feel everything. From his tone chest and legs to his soft length, pressing against your backside. His gray sweats and your flimsy shorts barely acted as a barrier between you. Stretching your legs out, you realize that Lemon had hopped off the bed at some point, likely to sleep in her carrier.

Without thinking, your shaky hand made its way down your front, actively avoiding his arm. You bit your lip harshly as you slipped a finger underneath your shorts, listening carefully to ensure he wasn’t awake. This is crazy, you have never thought of doing something so indecent in front of Jake, but the idea was sending you into a frenzy.

You fingertip made contact with your slit, and you had to stop yourself from moaning aloud at just how wet you were. Slowly, you rubbed circles around your clit, jolting slightly at the initial contact. Maybe it was from the dream or the fact that Jake was right there, but you felt more sensitive than usual, holding in whimpers with every movement.

“F-fuck,” you accidentally let out, screwing your eyes shut as you moved your hand faster. In the quiet stillness of the night, you could hear your slick with every flick of your wrist. If Jake woke up, there’d be no question to what you were doing, but the thought only spurred you on more.

Using your other hand to grope yourself over your shirt, you teased your entrance, easily inserting a finger. It wasn’t enough, your finger failing to fill you up how you know Jake’s would, a thought that forced out a rather loud moan.

Realizing how loud you were, you paused and listened to his breathing. Before you could even register that his breaths weren’t as deep as they were before, his arm tightened around you.

“Naughty fucking girl,” he hissed into your ear, pulling your hand out of your panties. You didn’t have time to feel humiliated before he rolled you onto your back, his thighs pressing into your waist as he sat on top of you. The look he gave you was just like the one he had in your dream, eyes dark and pupils full-blown, eyebrows furrowed together in desperate need.

“Touching yourself like that while my arm’s around you,” he spat, leaning until he was mere inches away from your face. “Thinking I wouldn’t wake up. Needed me that badly, yeah?”

It was clear that you were shocked, wide-eyed and jaw agape. Not once in your lifetime of friendship with Jake had you seen this feral side to him. You felt his hardening length when he pressed his hips down and groaned. “Come on, sweets. I know you’re smarter than that. You can answer me with words like a big girl.”

You smacked your lips together in disbelief before nodding slowly. “Yeah,” you stuttered. “Need you so bad, Jake.” Your own words surprised you, his boldness rubbing off on you. “Dreamt of you,” you confessed.

Jake raised a brow at you, laying his hand flat on your side. “Yeah? Was I touching you,” he used his hand to push up your shirt, moving faster than his dream counterpart had and groping at your breast, flicking his thumb over the hardening bud. “Like this?”

Nodding fervently, you bit your lip to hold in your moans as he handled you. He clicked his tongue using his other hand to pull at your bottom lip until it was released from your teeth. “Wanna hear you, princess. You had no problem moaning while I was asleep. Unfair to hide them in front of me now, isn’t it?”

He bent down to take your other nipple in his hot mouth, his searing tongue darting out to circle the sensitive bud. His eyes never left yours, watching your expressions as you arched your back to his ministrations. He let go of your nipple, only to blow cold air on it, making you whimper. “What else did I do, pretty?” He asked, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers. “Did I make you feel good?”

“Fuck,” you cried when he thrust his hips against you, giving you a hint as to what was to come. “Made me feel so good, Jake.” You threw your head back as he continued, shallowly thrusting against your clothed core. You weakly pointed at your neck. “Kissed me here,” you sighed when he leaned forward to leave kitten licks against your neck, nipping gently at the skin. “And…”

He bit down on the skin under your ear, using his tongue to soothe the mark before kissing up to your earlobe. “And?” His deep voice resonated within you, making you shiver.

“And then you…” You trailed off, instead opting to run a hand down your front to the waistband of your shorts, not missing the way his eyes followed. “Touched me here.” Tapping over your clothed clit, you avoided his gaze out of shyness, still in disbelief of this situation. “Then I woke up.” Your voice was weak, doused in lust and need for the man in front of you.

He smirked at you, moving back so he could pull your shorts off, leaving you in your oversized tee—an old shirt of his he’d given you before you moved—and your soaked baby blue panties. Even in the dark, he could see how wet you were, the thought making him groan as he palmed himself over his sweats at the sight of you.

“Poor baby,” he sighed, though you heard no actual sympathy in his tone. “Couldn’t get off in your dream, so you touched yourself like a whore in front of me.” You squirmed at his vulgarity, his words sending shockwaves to your clenching pussy. Shifting his body down the bed so he was laying between your thighs, he left kisses up and down the sensitive skin there. His tongue traced a line from your knee up to where you truly wanted him before stopping right before your panties. His mouth wrapped around your skin as he bit down, hard enough to sting but not hard enough to really hurt.

When he pulled away, a dark hickey had formed. “Shit,” he groaned, “God, I love marking you up.” He looked back up at you, resting on your elbows so you could watch him. “Gonna leave marks all over, yeah? Then you’ll know who made you feel good, pretty girl.”

Mindlessly, you nodded, wanting him to do anything he wanted with you. His every word made you feel impossibly wet, almost embarrassingly so.

Without missing a beat, he kissed your clit over your panties, making you whimper as you thrust your hips up toward his face. “Patience, baby,” he mumbled, tonguing you through the thin fabric of your underwear. “Gonna make you feel good.” Using his teeth, he pulled your panties down, your slick stringing along as he got them to your knees before using his hands to pull them off completely.

The sight of your exposed cunt, wet and clenching around nothing, made Jake crazy. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he admitted with a groan before he dove into your pussy, licking up your slick. He drew figure-eights over your clit before closing his lips around it and sucking, making you cry out. You felt his long fingers poke at your entrance, the stimulation leaving you a mess of moans and whimpers.

When two of his fingers pushed past your entrance, you both groaned at the feeling of him sliding inside your gummy walls. His tongue worked at your clit as he slowly scissored his fingers inside you, all while watching your reactions. “So hot,” you gasped, clawing at the bed sheets. “Fuck, Jake, gonna…” You cut yourself off, moaning loudly, when he started moving his fingers faster.

“Cum for me, sweets.” His demand seemingly made you snap as you came around his fingers in an instant. He closed his eyes as his jaw dropped in a groan, relishing the feeling of you clenching tightly around his fingers. He slowly took them out, biting his lip at how wet you were. The whine you let out once you were empty would live in his mind for the rest of his days, he decided, as he moved up the bed to come eye to eye with you.

You watched as he sucked his fingers clean of your wetness before leaning in and kissing you harshly. The taste of him mixed with your juices made you moan, grabbing at the fabric of his shirt tightly. He bit your bottom lip, pulling at it slightly before kissing you deeply once more. Your lips slotted together with ease, like two puzzle pieces.

He felt your hand travel down his stomach to the strings of his sweatpants, leaning back to watch as you undid the knot before pulling them down in a swift motion. He sat up to kick the garment off, before returning to his spot between your thighs. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, hunger in your gaze as you inspected his cock, hard against his stomach. It was red, needy and weeping, one pronounced vein running along his shaft. More importantly, he was thick—thicker than any toys you had bought on a whim.

When you looked up at him, he must’ve caught your fear as he cupped your face in his warm palm. Kissing you gently, he brushed your hair back. “We don’t need to go any further if you don’t want us to,” he assured you, even though the hardness of his length said otherwise. “We’ll only go as far as you want to.”

You bit your lip, “Then…” Without another word, you closed a fist around his shaft, watching his eyes widen. “I want to make you feel good, too,” you whispered. You collected some of his precum, using it to glide your hand up and down at a torturous pace, your eyes never leaving his face.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, shoving his face in the crook of your neck. You felt his hot breaths fan over your skin, leaving goosebumps, and he moaned in your ear. His arms were braced on either side of your head, his scent invading your senses as you touched him. “Doing so well for me,” he hushed, kissing at your neck. He nudged your jawline with his nose, sucking down on your jugular. “Shit,” his hips stuttered, thrusting up into your grasp. “Go faster for me, yeah?”

You nodded, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you picked up speed. Using your other hand to grasp his balls, you delighted in the way he groaned a little louder, your name slipping from his lips wantonly. Leaning forward, you bit down on his shoulder, flicking your tongue out just as he had before. With your lips on him, he moaned your name once more, fucking up into your hand with reckless abandon. He swore lowly as his hips stilled, ropes of thick cum spilling from his cock and onto your hands and shirt.

He stayed there momentarily, catching his breath before hovering a bit higher to watch you. Inspecting your hand, you brought it to your lips. His eyes never left your tongue as he watched it dart out to catch any drops of his seed. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he sighed once you finished, wiping off any remains on your soiled tee. He pulled the tee over your head before giving you his own, still warm from being worn.

“Go to sleep, sweets,” he mumbled against your temple as he settled in next to you. “We’ll talk in the morning, yeah?”

Your morning talk ended up with his tongue between your thighs in the shower as you struggled to keep yourself up, one leg over his shoulder. You were sure the people in the rooms next to you could hear your cries when you came on his tongue for the nth time, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

Once he thought you had cum an adequate amount of times, he carefully set you down, massaging your aching thighs as he kissed you gently. Pulling away, he leaned his forehead against yours, eyes still closed. Taking the opportunity, you pecked his lips before reaching for the body wash, giggling.

You never ended up talking about it, getting distracted by Lemon, who whined at the door when you finally came out of the bathroom.

The rest of the road trip went similarly. You’d hold hands as he drove to your next destination, and then you’d get each other off in your motel rooms until the motel owners eventually kicked you out for disturbances. Between towns, you’d talk as if he wasn’t just knuckles deep in your heat or as if you didn’t just have his cock shoved down your throat as he fucked your face.

Words that needed to be spoken never were. Your fearful thoughts kept you from initiating the conversation that could very well destroy years of friendship with Jake.

ONE DAY.

Finally, you had made it to Seoul. Unfortunately, a flat tire in the middle of nowhere stopped you from getting there two days before, as Chaewon wanted. Luckily, nothing did go wrong and everything seemed to be ready for tomorrow.

Tired from the long trip, both emotionally and physically, Jake offered his house for you to stay at. Without thinking, you said yes. You took his keys and unlocked the door as Jake grabbed your things from the car, Lemon pushing past your feet and into the house, eager to explore.

As she made her way around, her nails against the hardwood floor indicating where she was, you and Jake pushed your luggage into the living room before collapsing onto the couch.

“I’m so happy to be home,” he sighed, stretching his limbs. “As fun as road trips are, nothing beats sleeping in your own bed.” Glancing over at you, a million thoughts raced in his mind, but he pushed them away. He wanted to talk about what you were, the frequent hookups making his brain mush. But he could read you—he always could. You’ve always been so emotive that you made it easy, but he had your habits memorized. He knew exactly when you didn’t want to do something and that you weren’t ready for talking.

So he didn’t say anything, even though he knew it might hurt him in the long run.

Unlike your apartment or the many motels you stayed at over your trip, Jake actually had two beds. The thought of sleeping in separate rooms felt so foreign, but he told you anyway. You hummed, “Maybe I should sleep in the guest room then.” You grinned at him, “You’re probably tired of having to share a bed with me by now.”

Never, he thought.

That night, he lay in his too-empty bed, restless. Knowing you were in the same house, with only a thin wall separating you, was driving him mad. Not having you next to him, curled up against his side, drove him mad. His hand clenched around the bedsheets, where you would’ve been if you had taken up his silent plea to sleep in the same room as him.

In that moment, Jake realizes just how screwed he really is. Covering his eyes with his forearm, he quietly swore into the empty room, his heart aching. Jake had gotten so used to being so close to you, to have you by his side as he pleasured you, your high-pitched cries echoing in his ears. He knew it wouldn’t last forever and that he’d have to drive you home a few days after the wedding. Then, he didn’t know how long it’d be until he saw you again.

He wonders if everything that happened will get brushed under the rug. God, he hoped not.

Just as he decided he’d need some sleep for the wedding tomorrow, he heard something through the wall. He held his breath, straining his ears to hear the noise's source. Before long, he realized it was you, your short breaths easily passing through the wall, the sound of your slick ringing clear as day to him.

Without another thought, he ripped off his blanket and made his way to the guest room. To his surprise, you hadn’t even closed your door, his eyes blessed with the sight of you atop the bed. Neither the blankets nor the sheets were disturbed, making it clear that you hadn’t even gotten comfortable before you started. He watched in a daze as your fingers plunged in and out of your hole, your face contorted into one of drunken pleasure.

He felt himself grow hard as he stepped closer. You whimpered out his name as you rubbed harsh circles over your clit, and something inside Jake snapped.

“You must love fucking torturing me,” he rasped, roughly pulling your fingers out of your pussy and pinning your hands to the bed, leaving your body fully exposed to him. “Always touching yourself in front of me like a slut. You knew what you were doing, leaving your door open.” When you turned your head away in feigned humiliation, he used his free hand to forcibly turn your cheek. His nails dug into your jaw as he forced you to look at him.

“Do you know how crazy you make me feel?” He asked, but he narrowed his eyes at you when you went to answer. “Do you know how fucking long I’ve wanted to see you like this? Needy and begging for my cock?” His words shut up, the implication of something more making your heart race.

“Do you know how hard it’s been for me to stop myself from making you mine every night we’re together?” He growled, letting go of your hands to push your legs up against your chest. “Do you know how hard it is to refrain from kissing you every time you look at me with that look in your eye?”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him in for a kiss, your lips meeting in a fight for dominance. His hands pushed you deeper against the bed as he pressed himself against you. His patience was wearing thin as he pulled away, only to pull off his shirt before he leaned in again. Your lips, your taste—all of you was addicting to Jake.

“Jake,” you moaned out when he attacked your neck, adding to the healing bruises from before. “‘M ready now. Please, please, make me yours,” you begged, spreading your legs wider for emphasis.

If he wasn’t hard before, he was now at your plea, a growl stuck at the back of his throat at the thought of fucking you like how he’s wanted to. “You sure, princess?” he asked, leaning back to look you in the eye.

“I’ve never been more sure,” you gasped, eyes darting from his left to right. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”

Jake only shook his head, pulling you in for another deep kiss. Jake swallowed your moans, a feeling of possessiveness taking over him as he fondled your breasts. “All mine,” he hissed, “you’re mine.”

He made quick work of his sleep shorts, the garment getting thrown across the room into some corner to be found in the morning. His cock was pretty as ever, and your hands instinctively went to grab at it. “Next time, baby,” he rasped, “Need to take you now.”

You cried out when you felt the tip of his length nudge against your folds, collecting your juices as he ran his cock up and down your cunt. A broken whimper of his name ripped through your throat when he bumped your clit, his own deep moan shaking in his chest. He felt like he was losing his mind, the warmth of your pussy felt so good against his shaft, and he hadn’t even entered you yet.

You felt him line himself up at your entrance, and you tensed. Noticing, Jake left gentle kisses against your shoulder. “I’ll take care of you, pretty, just lay back, yeah?”

You nodded but felt hot tears well up in your eyes as he pushed past your entrance, a stinging burn erupting between your legs. He moved slowly, but inch by inch, the burn became more intense. “It’ll hurt more when you’re this tense, baby,” he whispered, massaging your right breast in hopes of distracting you. His lips met yours in a kiss more gentle than any that preceded it. Screwing your eyes shut, tears beaded at the corners of your eyes before they fell, disappearing into your hairline. He kissed your temple when he finally bottomed out after what felt like years. “Doing so well for me, sweets.”

He stilled for a few minutes despite wanting nothing more but to drill into you. Leaving kisses all over your face and neck, he observed as your face relaxed more and more. “You can move now,” you whispered, out of breath.

“Yeah? Trust me?”

“Mhm,” you closed your eyes—the sting had disappeared, and now you just felt stuffed. “I trust you, Jake.”

Your admittance made his head spin as he dropped his head onto your shoulder. Slowly, he pulled out until just the tip was inside before thrusting into you. A low moan rumbled in your chest as Jake sucked at your neck. He repeated the motion, rocking into you slowly until you got used to it.

After a while, the pain turned to pleasure as you clenched around him, making him gasp against your skin. “Faster, please,” you begged, linking your ankles around his back. “Need you.”

Just as you asked, Jake upped his pace, moving steadily. He sat back gripping your waist as he thrust into you. He watched for your reactions, eyes darting from your scrunched up face to the bouncing of your breasts down to the jiggle of your thighs with each thrust. His speed picked up until he was pistoling into you, broken moans pushing past your lips as his hips slapped against yours.

The sound of your wetness was so obscene, if you were in a normal state of mind you would’ve been embarrassed. But the drag of his cock against your walls and the way his pelvic bone grazed your clit every time he bottomed out was deliciously addicting. “Feels so fucking good,” Jake moaned, “you’re gripping me so tightly—fuck!—gonna make me cum, princess.” Falling forward, he braced himself on one arm, reaching for your puffy clit with the other. He rubbed fast cirlces on your clit as he pounded into you, the sound of skin against skin turning you on more. You willed yourself to keep your eyes open, to bask in the sight of Jake slowly losing control of his movements as he got closer to his own release.

The sight of him hunched over you, eyes glassy as he furrowed his brows in concentration, beads of sweat dripping from his hairline, causing his blond hair to stick to his forehead, was so fucking hot. You gripped at his arms, muscles bulging as he struggled to keep himself up.

You felt an orgasm fast approaching, your own whines coming out higher and higher. “Fu—ck, Jake,” you swore, “I’m so close, please, I—”

At your words, Jake’s hips moved faster, hitting the spot that made you see stars over and over again. “You look so beautiful like this,” he uttered breathlessly. “Fuck, I love you.” The words spilled from his lips unintentionally, the way your walls clenched around him knocked any sense of thought out of him, his only coherent thought being to make you cream around his cock.

His words echoed in your brain as you came with a cry of his name. The feeling of you cumming sent Jake into overdrive as he pistoned into you, overstimulating you as he chased his release. After a moment, he stilled, coming inside of your cavern. You felt his release paint your walls white, bringing you into a second orgasm.

He stayed inside you for a while, hovering over your tired body as he caught his breath. Eventually, he pulled out, his cum spilling from your clenching hole, making him sigh in pleasure at the sight. He kissed your temple before moving to get off the bed. You watched, spent, as he searched for his shirt in the dark, the hallway light dimly illuminating the room. For a second, you were scared that he was just going to go back to his own room, but after he found the shirt, he came back to your side. Wordlessly, he wiped you clean, even wiping at the beads of sweat that accumulated on your skin.

Tired, he let himself collapse beside you, pulling you against his chest.

“Did you mean it?” you asked in a small voice.

“Hmm?”

“When… When you said you loved me.”

You felt him tense under you for a second before relaxing. His arms held you tighter against his chest, letting you listen to his rapid heartbeat.

“Yeah.” He paused, the cogs in his brain turning as he searched for the right words to say. Nothing he came up with seemed right; he opted to stay silent and waited for your response. When it didn’t come, he looked down at you, only to be met with your sleeping face. He sighed, his breath shaky as his eyes burned. He pressed a single kiss on the crown of your head. “Good night, sweets.”

THREE HOURS.

Chaewon had been spamming your phone, the distinct buzzing of each message waking you up. Jake slept through the sound of you typing, exhausted from the night before.

Where are you???? Get your ass here NOW before I come and get you myself

Are you even awake?

Girl, if you’re not here in the next hour I’ll punt you into the next century

Swearing, you carefully slipped out of Jake’s grasp. When he didn’t stir, you shook him gently. He mumbled incoherently, wrapping his arms around your middle as he deeply inhaled your scent. “Jake, we gotta’ wake up now. Chaewon’s having a cow and I don’t think we want to upset the bride today.”

At your words, Jake murmured something you couldn’t hear before finally peeling himself off you, looking at you with sleepy eyes and messy hair. “Wha’ time isit?” he slurred, stretching his arm.

“It’s twelve, so we have to go. Like, now.”

Thankfully, that seemed to wake Jake up, and he sat up quickly. “Damn, okay,” he pushed his hair back. “Get changed and everything, and I’ll meet you at the door.”

You watched as he leaped off the bed, picking up his soiled clothes from the floor. He made his way to his own room, and you heard the shower turn on. In the time it took for you to brush your teeth and get changed, Jake had showered and hastily shoved on some comfy clothes, his attire being left with Heeseung as well.

The drive to the hotel where the bridal and groom's parties were getting ready was quiet, partially from sleepiness and partially because of the unfinished conversation from last night, filling the air with thick tension. His hand rested on the middle console, palm up, but you didn’t take it.

When you got to the hotel, you were quickly ushered to your respective rooms by other bridesmaids and groomsmen. Jake could only watch as you disappeared behind a room door before getting shoved into one himself.

He didn’t see you again until later, when the wedding was about to start, and the pairs were meant to walk down the aisle. Since you were Chaewon’s maid of honour and Jake was Heeseung’s best man, you were paired together. When you finally saw him, you felt the air leave your lungs. His hair was styled so it was out of his face, save for a few strands that hooked over his forehead. His suit was entirely dark blue, from his blazer to his tie, and it made him look unfairly handsome.

Your mouth felt dry as you linked arms with him, listening for your cue to walk.

Unbeknownst to you, he felt similar. You looked stunning in your baby blue satin dress, and he thought it hugged your curves in such a way that he almost wanted to cover you up so only he could see you like this. His heart pounded in his chest at your touch.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered as you waited, making the couples behind you snicker. You blushed, your face warming as you rubbed your lips together anxiously.

“As do you,” you mumbled, looking into his eyes shyly. “You look really good.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but the doors opened up, and that was your cue. The venue was gorgeous, as expected since Chaewon planned most of it. The sight of the aisle and the altar made your heart soar for her, and you absentmindedly rubbed at your own ring finger the closer you and Jake got to the end of the aisle.

You sent him a smile before you retreated to your respective spots. As the rest of the couples and the flower girl made their way down the aisle, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes on Jake. You wondered how you looked, staring over at the best man when there were so many things you should’ve been paying attention to.

Clearing your throat, you looked forward.

When you finally saw Heeseung, your heart clenched. You fisted the fabric of your dress as you watched him wait for his bride-to-be. This motion didn’t go unseen by Jake, whose jaw clenched.

When Chaewon appeared from behind the door, the room erupted into cheers as everyone stood. Tears sprang to your eyes as you watched your cousin, veiled, take small steps closer to her future husband. You knew your makeup was going to be ruined by the end of the night, but you couldn’t help but cry once she reached Heeseung. You glanced at him once more before staring down at your heeled feet.

The rest of the ceremony went off without a hitch, Chaewon and Heeseung’s beautiful vows leaving everyone in tears. You had even caught Jake wiping away some stray tears. You watched with a sense of longing as Chaewon and Heeseung made their way down the aisle. You didn’t realize that Jake had been staring at you the whole time, not even when it was your turn to walk out.

The banquet was to start half an hour later. You and Jake had gotten separated in the commotion outside of the venue hall. You heard him call out to you, but you couldn’t see him over the large, bustling crowd of wedding guests. Knowing that you’d see him at the banquet, you slipped further into the crowd until you found a balcony. Peaking your head out, you let out a breath of relief when there was no one there.

The sun was setting, casting an orange hue over everything it touched. A beautiful sight, you thought as you leaned against the railing. You closed your eyes as you thought back on the wedding. It had been the exact wedding the Chaewon had planned years ago, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to be truly happy. How could you, after all, after watching Heeseung look at Chaewon with such love and adoration?

When someone called your name, you turned around to see Jake standing there, slightly unkempt from the crowd. “I finally found you,” he heaved, gesturing back to the hall that was still full of busy wedding goers. “Man, the banquet is literally in the room over from the wedding hall—they couldn’t be a little more patient in moving over?” He shook his head in mock disbelief as he joined you.

He looked at you, ready to make a joke, but paused when he saw your face. His smile dropped as he turned to face you fully. “You’re crying,” he noted, cupping your cheek. You blinked in surprise, having not noticed how tears had welled up in your eyes. “What’s wrong, sweets?”

You turned around, pulling your face out of his grasp, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I don’t know,” you murmured, voice breaking. “I just… when I saw them—”

“Is it Heeseung?”

His cold, clipped tone shocked you. When you looked at him in confusion, his expression had hardened. “What—”

“Why does seeing him with her still hurt you? I thought you were fine,” his words were level, but you heard the slight tremble of his voice.”You said you moved on.”

Sputtering, you turned to him with an indignant glare. “Jake, it’s not that easy—”

Scoffing, he took a step back from you. “So what? The last two weeks meant nothing to you? Last night meant nothing to you? I…” He gripped at his hair, stressed. “I told you I loved you, and you’re still crying over Heeseung?”

It dawned on you how he perceived your words, and an unsettling fear grabbed at you as you went to explain yourself. “What? Jake, no, I’m not—”

He gave you no room to speak, interrupting you hastily, words tumbling from his lips as though he had no control of them. “I have always loved you,” he confessed, voice breaking. “Ever since we were kids, for me, it’s always been you. I came to you because I love you. I spent these last two weeks with you because I love you, and I want nothing more than for you to see me as more than a best friend or… or someone who’s convenient for you.” You watched in horror as his eyes watered, stepping forward to grab his arm to explain, but he ripped his arm away from your grasp. “I can see now that you never will.”

“Jake, wait—!” Your cry fell on empty ears as he turned to leave you alone on the balcony, his back feeling unreachable as he reached for the doorknob to go back inside. At this point, the crowd in the hall had dispersed, and you were sure the banquet was starting. But none of that mattered—what mattered was stopping Jake from leaving before you could tell him the truth.

Swallowing your fears, you called out his full name. You sighed in relief when he paused, but your hands shook at your sides as you forced your next words out. “He made me feel like I was unlovable,” you uttered, voice just barely above a whisper. For a second, you were worried he hadn’t heard you, but he turned his head slightly. Finding the courage to continue, you stepped forward. “I’m not… I don’t love Heeseung, Jake. I haven’t loved Heeseung for a really fucking long time.”

But what happened between us gave me all of these terrible thoughts that I didn’t…. That I don’t know how to handle. I thought I was perfectly fine dealing with my insecurities on my own before you came.” He turn his head more, allowing you to see his profile. You saw him open his mouth, ready to retort, but you narrowed your eyes at him. “Sim Jaeyun, if you interrupt me again, I’ll kick your ass.” Your threat wasn’t all that threatening, considering the fact that you were near to tears, but he listened and shut his mouth.

“When you showed up at my apartment, I thought I was going mad. You made me feel like that. It was suddenly so different between us and I didn’t know what to do. You kept saying these things like you were trying to fluster me, and I couldn’t tell if you were being genuine or if my fucked up mind was just creating scenarios where you might actually love me.” Tears were freely falling now, smudging your eye makeup and leaving its trail in your foundation. You stepped closer to Jake, who had fully turned to face you. You stopped, leaving a few meters between you as if you were scared of crossing an invisible boundary.

“Last night was the best night of my life. And every time before that, you made me feel complete and made me so happy, Jake. You made me feel… normal. It felt like I was myself again for the first time in months, but there was something else there, too.” You looked into his eyes, unable to tell what he was thinking. You swallowed thickly, “I don’t love Heeseung, and you’re a fool if you think I do. But it’s so fucking hard to shake off the feeling that at any point you could find someone better, someone who’s prettier, or—”

Jake was quick to close the distance between you, his lips downturned into a scowl as he glowered at you. “Just shut up already,” he spat, cupping your face in his hands and bringing his lips to yours. You felt a thousand times lighter as you kissed him back with the same fervour as him, your tears mixing into the kiss. He dropped a hand to rest on your hip, bringing you flush against him. Once he pulled away, you were both breathless. He rested his forehead against yours as his shoulders rose and fell quickly.

When he finally opened his eyes, gone was the pain and hurt. Now, when he looked at you, he looked with adoring eyes. “I love you,” he whispered. “You might not believe me yet, but just know that whenever I look at you, all I see is the person I want to spend my life with. There isn’t anyone better or prettier—there’s only you.”

He met your eyes before kissing you again.

You looked into his eyes once you pulled away, a thousand thoughts swirling behind your irises. “I love you,” you breathed out. You reached for his hand, interlocking your fingers together as you smiled tearfully at him. “Help me believe you.”

Jake laughed in disbelief, bringing you close to his chest.

“We have all the time in the world to get there, sweets.”

©WONLOVIE please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

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axelsagewrites · 4 months

Text

Aegon Targaryen*Daughter

Pairing: aegon x mum!reader

Word count: 1904

Warnings: unexpected pregnancy, aegon having a bad reaction, absent father, mentions of alcholism and drug abuse, mentions of birth/morning sickness, aegon coming back

Part one here or read alone

Masterlist Here

“Pregnant? You can’t be- you’re not- how?” you sat back as Aegon shot up from your bed, instantly pacing the bedroom as he tried to come to terms with it. you couldn’t blame him you suppose. After all you’d spent a whole week trying to convince yourself it was a lie and your roommate had to literally slap some sense into you. “But we were so safe?”

“Condoms aren’t perfect I guess,”

“But you were on the pill,”

“Its only like 90 something percent effective, look I don’t know,” you let out an exasperated sigh as Aegon looked at you with eyes bulging out his skull.

He walked over and picked up the test, “Maybe you did it wrong,”

“I didn’t do it wrong Aegon I did 20 of them!” you snapped, instantly regretting it as he sunk down on the bed next to you.

You went to speak but he finally broke the silence but broke your heart at the same time, “You’re getting rid of it right?” ‘it’. the words hit like a brick colliding with glass.

“I hadn’t decided yet,” you admitted in a quite voice but loud enough for Aegon to rub his hands over his eyes before dropping his head between his knees, “But we’ll figure it out Aegon. We’ll make it work,” you told him, trying to rub his back but he snapped back up.

“Maybe you can,” he said, his voice cracking, “Not me. I can’t be a dad. Look at me!” he said, standing up and pointing to himself like he was an exhibition, “I am a fucking mess I can’t raise a kid! Ill break it!” he said as he started to pace again.

“They’re not it!” you yelled back standing up too.

“Don’t yell at me!” he screamed as he turned around, his eyes instantly softening when he saw you stepping back, “I’m so- “

“Get out,” you managed to grit out through clenched teeth, “You don’t get to talk to me like that. Leave. Now,”

Aegon paused, his hand half reached out to try comfort you before he sighed and turned around. He headed to the door with his head hung low, “If you need me to go to the doctors- “he started to mumble as he reached for the door handle.

“I won’t need you. ever. You’ve made that clear enough,” you forced the words out your mouth even though they burned you to even saw them. You saw his heart shatter, but you didn’t care as you laid a hand on your stomach.

Telling your parents was defiantly not something you looked forward to. You told your best friend Heleana first who offered to fly out the next weekend to see you, but you insisted you were fine. She however insisted on being there to tell your parents to make sure you were okay. the whole time you refused to tell her who the father was.

“Who’s the dad?” your mother asked after a very long and teary-eyed conversation.

Your eyes wandered to Heleana. She reached for your hand and tried to say something, but you cut her off, “I’m so sorry Hel,” you whispered making her tilt her head. You cleared your throat and spoke up so they could all hear, “Its Aegon,”

Heleana’s grip on your hand loosened as her eyes fell to the floor. For a moment you thought you’d lost her too btu then you felt her hand squeeze yours again, “What did he say?” she asked but she could tell from the look on your face, “I will fucking kill him,”

It was the first time you’d heard her swear but not the last time it was brought up when discussing Aegon. You ended up telling her the full story later that night and she was ready to fly out and kill him. the only issue was no one knew where he was. Alicent was used to that by now though you could see it begin to weigh on her know he’d been gone for 3 months.

You however were now 4 months pregnant, postponing school, and unable to hide it any longer. “Alicent?” you asked as you awkwardly shuffled into the room with Aemond and Heleana behind you as backup. Aemond had sussed it out pretty quickly though was equally shocked by the father when you told him.

Alicent smiled at you from where she sat on the sofa reading her novel, “Is everything alright dear?”

“I need to tell you something,”

Alicent was silent as she processed it all before suddenly taking your hands with a teary smile but a happy one still, “Thank you for telling me sweetheart. Its going to be okay,” And for a while it was. Well, if you didn’t mind the morning sickness and ballooning to the size of a small house. That and still no one had heard from Aegon.

Heleana had helped pick out the decorations for the nursery in your new flat. Yes, a new flat paid for by Alicent. Well technically it was one of her rentals she had inherited when her father died but she decided to let you live there free of charge as well as telling you she’d help out when you decided to go back to school.

Aemond helped you get a job in the restaurant he’d been at for years and even though working as a waitress could be draining at the best of times you knew it would be worth it. especially now you were holding your daughter in your arms.

She was adorable with tuffs of blonde, white hair covering her perfect head. She was such a giggly baby, always gurgling away with a smile. Heleana had to go back to university, but Alicent made sure to adjust her schedule to have the baby when you were at work. Everything was finally feeling good again.

“Hush little baby doesn’t say a word,” you whisper sang to your baby as your nighttime routine with her, but she was already out from a long day at the park with her gran. As you laid her in her crib you heard the doorbell ring.

You froze, watching your daughter who initially stirred but luckily didn’t wake. You quickly padded to the front door, shutting the room to the nursery as you did. when you looked through the peep hole you felt your stomach tighten but still you reached for the door handle.

“Aegon?” you asked as he began to turn and walk away, probably assuming you weren’t in.

He spans back around, “Hey. I- “he began to stutter, “My brother said I could find you here,” you mentally cursed Aemond but stayed standing in the doorway, “I needed to talk to you,”

“Maybe I don’t want to talk to you,”

You saw the hurt in his eyes, but you didn’t care. well at least you tried not to. “I should go,” he muttered, turning to leave once more.

You sighed. Even if you hated him for what he said he was still your daughter’s father, “Wait!” you called out, wincing at the noise you made. Aegon turned back, “Come in,” you sighed.

He walked in in silence, sitting down on the couch you pointed him to as you sat in your armchair. You turned to the table beside you and flicked the baby monitor on. “How is she?” Aegon broke the silence with his head hanging low.

“She’s okay,” you paused but decided to go on, “She’s got your hair but my eyes and all she ever does is laugh,”

“Just like you then?” Aegon smiled softly, looking up as for the first time in a year you shared a smile with him, “I’m sorry. For what I said, for even thinking it,” he began, the smile fading, “I fucked up. Nothing I can say will fix it and I don’t think ill ever make it up to you,” he took a deep breath before continuing, “But I won’t be my father. I don’t want to only see her at Christmas and sign some cheque to pretend I care. I want to be there for her, and you. if you’ll let me,”

He said it so sincerely, but you couldn’t help the pit in your stomach, “What if you leave again?” you whispered. “I didn’t even know where you went,”

“I won’t,” he said firmly, “I know I fucked up. That night I left, and I ended up back at square one. Maybe less than one. All I remember is me leaving then waking up in a field surrounded by broken bottles. I couldn’t face you after. Not after how hard you worked to help me,”

“I kept it up for a bit, the drinking. Bounced around some houses sleeping on couches. Drank myself to sleep every night,” he continued his ramble, all while his eyes stared at the empty ground, “Then one night I was drunk again at a party and some guy offered me something. I almost took it. but something just snapped,”

“I checked myself into rehab the next day. Aemond’s been helping me, but he refused to tell me anything about you or well her. I couldn’t blame him. I was there for about four months. Got sober. Got better. Got another therapist. Ended up getting some jobs here and there. I work down at the Carstark Warehouses. Pays not much but enough to get by,”

Aegon paused again and finally looked up, “I really am sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me or feel bad, but I am sorry,” he said as he pulled an envelope out his pocket, “Take it,”

“I don’t need your money,”

Aegon sighed as he leaned forward and held it out to you. hesitantly you took it. inside was letters though. You pulled them out. At least thirteen of them, you weren’t too sure as your eyes began to well up. Some were to you, but most was to your daughter. “I brought this too,” he said making you look up.

He was holding a white plush bunny, your favourite animal, with a bow on its neck. “I got it when I saw my mums post on Facebook with the baby. I thought she should have it,” he said as he reached out to give it to you.

You shook your head this time, “No. you should give it to her. not me,” you said as you stood up, “You want to see her?”

Aegon shot out his seat, rubbing the sweat of his palms on his jeans, “Yeah course,”

You nodded as you led him to her nursery, “She’s asleep so you need to be quiet. I don’t want to wake her,” Aegon nodded as you creeped the door open.

Together you both walked in and for a moment before you turned around you thought he might run away again. However, when you turned and saw his awestricken face staring at your daughter you somehow knew he wouldn’t. he tenderly walked over to the crib, a tear trickling down his cheek as he held the crib by its rails. “I can’t believe I missed her being here,” he whispered so softly you barely heard him.

“You’re here now,” you whispered back, rubbing a hand on one of his shoulders while leaning on the others. “Just please don’t leave again,”

“I won’t. I’m never going anywhere again,”

General taglist: @strvngestark @headinfantasy @meg-ro @427120lxld @obx-josie18 @ravenmoore14 @tessakate @justtilly @jjkjbhj @clairacassidy @valeskafics @meg-ro

HOTD taglist @jmii722 @hypocritic-trash-baby @starkleila @jacesvelaryons @sashadevil766

Part One Tags: @heavenly1927 @aemonds-holy-milk

#aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen imagine #modern Aegon Targaryen #modern aegon #modern aegon Targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon imagine #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #modern hotd #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader #game of thrones x reader

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rinbowaman · 8 months

Note

heyy girl by the drumsticks, i meant like actual actual drumsticks 😭😭

thank youuu

"A Tighter Grip."

Warnings: foreign object penetration (consensual), corruption kink, rough smut (consensual) hints of rough smut, reader gets a very pleasurable time with her man. some...corny jokes toward the end.

"We're here." he calmly states as he places the car in park. You unbuckle your seatbelt and wait for him to come over and open up your door for you, a rule that he had set and made clear for you not to break. Pulling you up from the seat, he wraps his arm around your waist as he walks you inside the empty sub building, which was used by the school's band.

"do you and jake come here often to jam out?" you asked.

"From time to time." he smirks out as he plants and rest his lips on top of your head while walking you in.

"Hey! you made it!" jake smiles as h/n sits atop his lap, both of them playing the piano.

"Hey man whats up? long time no see." Giving out bro hugs, Heeseung reunites with his old friends from high school, most of them spread out and attending different universities, yet one face was familiar since he shared the same class as you.

"Hi Jungwon. How are you doing?"

"I'm doing good, how you doing? How's your study group?"

"Fine. Our group leader is a bit frantic at times, but he's mostly good. How about you?"

"oh you're lucky. I got Wilson, and that guy is such a pain."

Laughing as you both exchanged jokes, you felt yourself being pulled back as Heeseung wraps his arms around our waist and plasters your back against his chest. Exchanging his own greeting and bro hug with Jungwon, Heeseung drags you away to introduce you to his other friends, one of which you had met before, Jay.

"Oh hi Jay, its so good to see you again."

"Y/N, how are you?"

Taking a quick moment to catch up as Heeseung spooned you from behind, yet conversed off to the side with Jungwon, you caught up with Jay from the last time you saw him...and well, met him, at a local frat party. As the entire group mingled, you noticed the usual trait of Heeseung's habit whenever you both were in an overcrowded area.....

He always became far more clingy, and never allowed you to break away from him, not even for an inch. Whenever you btoh attended a frat party, went to a large dinner event, or just anywhere where people were a plenty and you were attracting eyes like bees with honey, Heeseung grew far more protected, possessive, and practically manhandled you in keeping you close to him. Not that his usual possessiveness and protected vibes weren't enough. Yet, something about his rough and abusive attitude in keeping you trapped within his arms, not letting you go and even tugging you harshly whenever you caught yourself slipping away whenever someone called your name. He was brutal, forceful, demeaning, restricting, and tough, yet was it was all so very.......sexy.

The way he eyed everyone down with a deathly glare whenever he caught them staring, or when Jay, Jungwon, or Jake would point out and hint for him to keep a close eye on a random stranger or party goer, who took way too much time to admire your rear end or your breasts, Heeseung noted their warnings and issued out his own to said stranger. Ensuring that just by the look of his eye, that whoever was caught eye-humping you was to look. theother way...unless they wanted something bad to happen. Which unbeknownst to many, aside from jake and maybe a few others who were close and personal friends of Heeseung, the range of 'bad' things could be anywhere from a brutal beating to their bodies suddenly disappearing overnight. you've seen it happen both ways, yet tried your best to deter his attention and getting him from ever utilizing the latter option........you tried at least.

Yet still....despite his violent nature in keeping you all to himself, there was something so very breathtaking about the man as he would keep his hands on you, ravish you with kisses and look at you much more softly than he did with others. He loved you...he adored you.....he would do anything and everything for you.

Noting how much you were pressing up against him as you sat on his lap, while he dabbled in playing with the drum set, you leaned your face at a tilt and kissed his ear. Shifting his face to look at you, he smirks with a dashing smile and leans back into the seat as he pulls you into him.

"You want something pretty baby?" he teases as he nuzzles his nose against your neck.

"maybe." you softly chuckled as you felt yourself yearning for more of his clingy touch, he rough and possessive grip, and his soft kisses to cover your entire body. Times like these, you couldn't help it.....you wanted him badly....and unlike most times where you yearned for him, this time....it was so much stronger.

"Yeah? he straightens his smile and his eyes grow sadistically wide. "well lets go and give it to you then...." he deeply exhales with an eager gasp as he grabs onto your neck. Getting up, he walks you out, telling the boys that he'd be right back, that you both were running a quick errand. He pulls you swiftly as the door gently shuts, yet doesn't take you to his car as you had presumed, instead, he takes you right next door to an empty room. It was an old science classroom, yet hadn't been used for quite some time, yet the structure of the chalkboard, the experimental counter spaces, and the seat and desks remained. Swinging you over, he leans you over. the edge of one of the island's and props himself closely behind, pressing his groin against your derriere. Taking a big inhale of your hair, he groans at the scent of your hair as he trails his nose from your nape, to the top of your head.

Whimpering, your spine jolts as you felt the tingling sense of tickle and pleasure riddle inside you. You didn't notice it until now, as he was pulling them out form his back pocket, but he had brought along the drum sticks and from the looks of it, he intended on using them.

"Tell me what you want baby..." he deeply teases....his voice...it carried the same depth in tone, yet was far more seductive and malicious.....

"......Ethan...." you mentally thought.

"I.....I....want you."

"Oh yeah?"

Raising the hem of your skirt up high, revealing your round and plump rear to remain perked up as your breasts remained plastered over the counter space, he swings your panties over the side and uncovers the crown of glory.

With the base of both sticks, the thicker ends paired together, he presses them up against your slit, rubbing them up and down. The slick and smooth wood of the two bundled up, caused you to gasp as you felt him nearly breaching your entrance.

"Tell me what you want me to do......baby doll." he grins against your ear as he presses forward and slips the bundled pair into you. Gasping out a moan, you perk your hips up and motioned your body back and forth, begging for him to go harder...deeper....and to move vigorously.

"mmm......i.....i want.....oh God...." barely able to speak, as he continues to slide the sticks inward, deeper and deeper, your body vibrates as you feel yourself becoming hot and bothered. The sticks were triggering that tingling feeling within you, yet it was nowhere near the sensation of Heeseungs own fingers...or his member. Still....the momentum was similar, as you laid limp, hunched over, taking in the inches before he finally pauses and starts to slide them out, only to ram them back in until his palm met your base.

"Oh my! God! Heeseung!" you gasped out, more and more as he increases the thrust and finally, he was going at a relatively high speed.

"Oh....wrong fucking name baby."

Catching your mistake, you tried to apologize but it was no used, he went even faster and faster. Finally, he was riled up enough where he himself, couldn't take any more of it. Placing the drumsticks in front of your mouth, he tells you to "bite down." You did so, keeping both sticks in your toothy grip as you hear him unbuckling his belt, loosening his pants and fishing out his lengthy member.

Already moistened and lubed up from being fucked by the drum sticks, he slips in with such ease.

"Oh.....fuck...baby you're that wet already?" he taunts out as he begins to fuck you. ata fast pace, not even setting of at a slow momentum.....it didn't matter, the feeling was incredible and something you yearned for all day.

Your saliva slips out from the corners of your mouth as it drips and lathers the drum sticks, finally, the sensation was far too much and you had to moan....you had to scream. Opening your mouth wide and releasing your pleasured gasps, the drum sticks fall before you as your body shifts up and down from receiving his thrusts. Reaching over, his hand hovers over your mouth, where the horizontal length of his finger makes its way in between your lips, to replace the drumsticks. Biting down on his thick finger, you remained merciless as you continued to get fucked. His free hand gropes your rear end and lifts one of your cheeks and gently pulls it apart for him to get a better view under the glare lighting that peered through the window. Watching as the skin around your opening, tightly wrapped around his shaft, becomes pulled as he thrusts out, only to swallow him back in as he shoves inward, he nearly drools at the sight of how you look in this angle, while he fucked you relentlessly. What made it even better, was the sounds of your pleasured gasps as you screamed out his name, begging him for more.

"E-Ethan...please...please!"

"Please what?"

"Please...please....ugh! fuck me! fuck me! more..more......i want more...." you gasped out, tears streaming down your cheeks as you pant out your high pitched cries.

"Yeah? baby wants more? come here...." he kisses the back of your head, releasing his finger from your toothy grip, he places both hands on your waist and pushes you downward, while causing your back to arch and your rear end to perk up. "Ill give you more."

Going at high speed, his groin smacking into your rear cheeks as they bounce and jiggle from the impact, he watches as the dip in your arch smooths out perfectly, and forms the most beautiful curve he's ever seen. Leaning his weight down, you feel his hands around your waist tighten, and squeeze hard as you felt all the pressure radiate in your lower pack as he leans forward and continues to thrust epically into you. He leaned so far in, his feet shifted onto his tip toes as he stabilized himself with his grip around your sides, thrusting...over...and over....and over again.

Who knows how long you were being fucked for now, all you knew was that your drool was foaming up, your hair was a sweaty mess, and you were already dripping with a creamy substance yet he remained thrusting into you, not once letting up or stopping. Your body was entirely limp, and would have failed to remain up had it not been the counter space, or Ethan propping you from sliding with his grasp. Finally, he growls out and there at that moment, you felt that familiar sensation, that warmth, that oozing bit that filled you.....

"Oh fuck i'm cumming....." he breathes out, his fingers digging into your skin as he remained grasping onto your waist. His cock twitches and taps your inner walls as he pumps a few more thrusts inside, releasing every single last drop.

Pulling out, noting the slimy and creamy substance that connected the tip of his shaft to your entry, he smirks as he notes his fine work, after viewing how the base of your entry was completley covered and filled with the thick white substance all over.

"what a mess...." he teases. His voice becomes less roaring, indicating he was going back to his Heeseung side.

Gently sliding your panties back over your entry, he gently pats it sealed as he lowers your dress and helps you to stand upright, carrying most of your weight as you were far too weak to stand on your own from being pelted for so long. Kissing your cheek, he whispers to you.

"keep it all in...let it do its magic..."

with that, he helps you walk out and back into the room next door. You did your best to smooth out your hair and look less of a wreck, yet the moment you walked in and saw the look h/n gave to you, you already knew that you failed to cover up the image of what had transpired.

Taking you over and sitting you down in one of the chairs, he kisses your forehead and tells you to stay put as he goes to get you a drink. Nodding, you placed both hands on your lap as he whispers "good girl." and walks away.

"Hey Ethan, can i get those drum sticks?" one man calls out as he sits at the drum set.

Without saying anything, Heeseung displayed his side profile as he reaches to his back pocket and takes out both sticks, and tosses them towards the man who catches them effortlessley. "thanks man."

"no problem. enjoy." heeseung smirks out as he continues to make his way over to the cooler and takes out two bottles of water.

H/n comes over to sit next to you. "so......what exactly uh....did you guys do for the last two hours?" she smiles teasingly. You looked at her somewhat wide eyed, knowing it was futile to even try and cover anything up.

"..........its...its just been a long day......you know?" you respond back.

"Oh i know." she teases as you both chuckle. The background of silence was suddenly filled with the delightful and skilled sound of the man playing the drums.

"Whoa.....Ethan, what did you put on these drum sticks man? they're so much better and smooth, and i can play so much better with them like this.....they also smell so ......sweet."

"Oh that?" Heeseung takes a swig of his water to replenish his energy as he still was catching his breath, wiping the sweat off his chin. "It's a special type of squalene that is used to preserve wood."

"man you gotta give me the name of it because these feel so much better in my grip. Its like i can hold onto them better and tighter now."

"yeah.....wood is always better when its gripped tighter."

Glancing back over his shoulder at you, he winks as you sat wide eyed blushing, with H/n laughing into your shoulder.

Enjoyed this piece? Show love and treat your girl to a cup of coffee. ♥️

☕ Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/reinbow

#heeseung x reader #heeseung scenarios #heeseung smut #enha x reader #heeseung hard hours #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung fanfic #enhypen hard hours #enha heeseung #enhypen smut #yandere heeseung imagines #yandere heeseung #heeseung yandere #heeseung imagines #heeseung au #enha drabbles

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bloodblotz · 2 months

Text

Task From Heaven

Hazbin Hotel x Angel!Reader

Post Hazbin Hotel Season 1

The reader is an angel from heaven tasked by the Heavenly Courtroom to aid the Hazbin Hotel and its goal on rehabilitating Sinners.

Part 3

First things first, you have to address the look of the hotel. As an angel that was once in charge in making sure Winners were comfortable, you know that appearances play a huge role in making mortal souls feel welcome.

The hotel was just newly built so it is definitely clean, especially with little Niffty running around constantly cleaning any speck of dust but cleanliness isn’t the issue.

“It’s the decoration,” you tell Charlie bluntly. She blinks, bewildered at the prospect.

“The decor? Why what’s wrong with it?”

“There’s nothing wrong with it, it’s just not very welcoming.” Charlie’s face is reminiscent of a kicked puppy when you say this.

“Not welcoming?”

“Yes, I know that red is the colour of Hell, however, Hell isn’t necessarily the best place for Sinners.” You start explaining. “If you can decorate the hotel to stand out against the red of hell, you can create a place that won’t constantly remind them that they’re in Hell. This can improve mood, making them more likely to focus on redemption.”

Charlie stands there dumbfounded for a brief moment before she takes out a notepad from… somewhere. You didn’t see a notepad in any of her pockets.

“Mortals also do this back on Earth too. They use colour theory to make spaces feel more welcoming. For example: yellow makes a place look more homely, whilst green can make a place look friendly or cold, depending on the shade.”

Charlie takes notes, nodding enthusiastically.

“Red is already such a bold and harsh colour but with the correlation of Hell, it may be impacting how much people are willing to come by.”

“I see! So I should paint everything!”

“That would take a lot of time and effort, for now, let’s start by adding more greenery into the setting.” You grab some seeds that you prepared in your pocket that morning. Cusping them gently in your palms, you bring them up to your lips and breathe angelic life into them.

The seeds burst with life, breaking free from their shells as green stems grow and curl into your hand until thick, healthy stems develop flower buds and clusters of roots.

You head outside, with Charlie following right after you, her eyes shining with wonder. Vaggie? Well, she’s definitely a lot less impressed.

You eventually stop at a spot at the entrance and dig your heel into the ground, cringing at how dry and hard it was. You dig until you were satisfied with size and plunk the flowers into the dirt. They stood proudly, a bright blue against the hotel’s red before almost immediately wilting into a sad shrivelled mess.

You frown. Huh.

“Oh no! The flowers…” Charlie looks disheartened at the sight and maybe you do too, but you’re not sure.

“Are we really surprised that Hell can’t sustain a flower?” Vaggie pipes up, her arms crossed. “It’s Hell. Why would anything nice grow here?” The she looks over at Charlie. “I stand corrected.”

“…It must be because the soil is drained of nutrients. If we can get some fertilizer and till the soil I’m sure we could get a healthier flower bed.” You rationalize.

Yes! That was it. There’s no people to maintain the perfect pH levels in the soil in Hell. Everyone is too busy trying to survive that they can’t take care of nature. With some care and love, this place will be brimming with nature.

With a quick trip to Hell’s own version of Little Shop of Horrors, the three of you were fully equipped with gardening gear.

“These begonias would look great over by the railing.” You swish your hand, sending a wave of angelic power toward already planted seeds and a bush of blooming begonias come sprouting from the soil. Charlie gasps at the sight.

She’s never seen a plant so nonthreatening. Its leaves were spotted white with small blossoms peeking from under.

That didn’t last long. After a couple seconds of admiration, the bush droops to the ground, wilted.

Your eye twitches.

Maybe it’s because you need a plant that’s more accustomed to the heat. So you plant zinnias and marigolds. Then they meet the same fate as the previous two plants. Which makes you think, maybe a plant that likes dry soil! So you plant cactuses and succulents but they die too.

In the end, none of the plants that Charlie and you planted lived. It’s disheartening to say the least.

You both sit silently on the steps of the hotel, gardening tools and fertilizer scattered across the front lawn.

“Oh my, what do we have here?” Alastor’s crackling voice comes from behind the two of you. Your heart jolts at the sudden noise but you’re careful not to show it. Charlie, on the other hand, jumps straight into the air.

“Ughhh, what do you want now?” Vaggie groans, taking a break from rubbing Charlie’s back to glare at the radio demon.

“Why, can’t a man be concerned? You three have been going at it for nearly an entire day!”

Angel Dust whistles as he walks by, making Alastor glower at him, his smile a bit tighter.

“Just get to the point already,” Vaggie grumbles.

“Well, I couldn’t help but notice your pitiful attempts at gardening, that’s all!” Way to rub it in, Alastor. “It seems that this dirt just wasn’t made for life, hmm? Why I mean,” Alastor materializes beside you, his gaze looks you up and down. It’s almost mocking. “Not even angelic power could grow a flower in this hellish landscape! A shame, a real shame.”

“Are you just here to rub it in? If so you can fuck off already.”

“Of course not! As host of the hotel, it is my job to see it thriving, no?” Vaggie rolls her eyes. “Now, now, Vagatha. Don’t be like that, take a page from Charlie and Y/N’s book and have some faith that this hotel might actually amount to something other than wasted time and delusion!”

“You’re here for a reason. Quit stalling,” you say, your wings a bit ruffled. The implication that any effort put into this hotel is wasted isn’t lost on you or Charlie.

“If anyone needs faith it’s you, Alastor!” Charlie jumps in, frowning at the taller man. “We have actual proof that Sinners could be redeemed! This is the perfect time to start bringing in more Sinners for our cause!”

“Charlie, dearest, of course I have faith. Why, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to help after all.”

“Then help us already.” Vaggie scowls.

Alastor smiles at her. “And I will!”

“You were on the right path by tilling the first, however…” He materializes beside you, plucking the flower you were sulking over. Your heart jumps at the sudden appearance. Your fright visible in your ruffled feathers, which he smiles at.

“As beautiful as that flower is, it would never survive in this landscape. That is why I propose you use plants native to Hell!” Alastor throws a book at Charlie who fumbles to catch it. When she finally does, she opens it to a random page.

Printed onto the page is a plant called ‘Rat King’. The picture depicts a cluster of long, thin roots intertwined into a ball at the base. Coming up from the roots were spindly stems which narrow leaves and small budding flowers.

“Of course, non native plants wouldn’t survive in such a harsh climate.” You said, nearly facepalming. The answer is so obvious and yet you missed it entirely. “…Thank you, Alastor.” You say sincerely.

In the background, Charlie excitedly starts flipping through the pages for the prettier plants with Vaggie occasionally giving her input.

Alastor smiles widely. “Why of course, dear! I only want nothing but the best for the hotel.” His crackling voice paired with his wide, static smile makes you feel uneasy but you shake it off. You have more gardening to do.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Parts:

1 2 3

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin spoilers #angel!reader #charlie morningstar #hazbin vaggie #vaggie #hazbin alastor #alastor #post season 1

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

Note

AITA for insulting my best friend, and attacking her boyfriend? I (21 X) was best friends T (21 F). We met in high school and I really clicked with her, and we've been living together since we were both eighteen. Anyway. We do volunteer work together. It's mostly stuff like cleaning trash, distrubting food to the homeless, etc. Not super glamarous. During one of our projects, T met and started dating this new guy, A (24 M). I cannot stand A. He's really unpleasant towards me, and i feel like he's taking advantage of T. He's makes unfunny 'jokes' about my mental health. This was annoying, but w/e.

However over the last month he's been constantly disrespecting our volunteer work, and really laying into me. I've been arrested before for shoplifting, and A hangs it above my head. He often makes comments about i'm a bad influence on her, and that i'll get her arrested by proxy. [Sometimes we do kinda illegal things. But its strictly relegated to stuff like removing bars from benches and shit. Not hurting anyone] Recently T has started to become distant from me, and i think she believes what he's been saying. She's stopped volunteering with me, and barely lives in our shared apartment, staying around exclusivley with her boyfriend.

Anyway this came to ahead when A and T actually came to the apartment to grab somethings. I tried at first to ask T what was up, and why she was acting like that to me. Why she quit volunteering. She kept dodging the question. So i lost my temper and started yelling at her, about how she was a shitty friend and completely ghosted me over A, who was a complete dick. Mind you this has been going on for a month. A then decided i was being too aggresive [i was yelling at most. Both of them are at least a foot taller than me, and i am maybe 100 lbs. I was not a threat] and he tried to restrain me. This set me off, so i defended myself. Again, i did not have the phyical advantage, and was panicking really badly, so i started doing shit like biting him to get free [i'm not proud of that].

we eventually broke apart. T got A to agree to not press charges, but she layed into me about how i was a shitty person, and that A had made her realise how toxic i was. that i used good causes to justify continuing to break the law for fun, and that i probably had a personality disorder. she said she didn't hate me, but she'd only mend things if i changed. Then she left with A. its been a week and we havent talked

i kinda feel like i could be ta, due to the assault, but also being invasive towards T. i do have issues when it comes to paranoia, and there is a chance it was normal levels of people changing, and i just overblew it and turned it into the mess. but on the other hand, i still feel justified due to how A started things first, and T, despite being such a long term friend, completely ignored me and backstabbed me. So aita?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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f4ll-for-you · 5 months

Text

Fade Into You | Rafe Cameron

Rafe x Reader Series Part 2

masterlist

mentions of drug abuse, parent death, addiction, hospitals

Rafe lifted you up as if you weighed nothing, gently placing you into his truck's passenger seat. Your sobs began to subside as sleep took over, finally feeling safe in the arms of someone you knew.

Knowing he couldn’t take you home like this, for fear of questions from his dad, he drove around the outer banks until you began to stir.

Rafe couldn’t help but appreciate how beautiful you looked in the mornings, how your nose scrunched as your eyes opened. “Morning,” he spoke softly.

As soon as you remembered the situation, tears started to form in your waterline once more. “Hey, shhh, you’re okay,” he cooed, placing a hand on your leg.

You looked up at him, confused. His touch instantly made you feel better. You’d felt so alone for so long, and finally, you had someone there, caring for you. “Thanks” you whispered, your throat still sore from crying.

Rafe pulled into a 24-hour cafe, its lights shining brightly in the 3 AM darkness. “Hungry?” He asked. You nodded, following his lead and getting out of the car.

You sat in silence reading the menu before ordering, not realising how long it had been since your last meal. Pancakes felt like the best option to cure your cravings.

“So, are you going to talk?” Spoke Rafe with a raised eyebrow now you could no longer hide behind your menu. His kind demeanour had faltered, his curiosity getting the better of him.

You met his eyes, refusing to break. You’d already embarrassed yourself enough. “Why do you care?” You retorted, trying to brush off the issue, hoping he would give up on you like usual.

“You know I care, you just don’t want to see that,” he spoke calmly, too calmly for your liking. You blinked as if to check the moment was not a dream, Rafe really was here, saying he cared, something you didn’t realise you’d been desperate to hear for months. A single tear fell down your cheek. You knew if you let any more out, you would be crying in his arms again. Rafe leant over the table, wiping the tear off your cheek.

“I miss her,” you mumbled.

“I know.” His words were so soft, so gentle and kind. You knew he understood. He’d lost his own mother at a young age, he’d felt how you felt. His life had revolved around pain for as long as he could remember. You suddenly felt a pang of guilt for Rafe. Maybe he really had tried to help you, to be there for you, and you’d just pushed him away, again and again, you thought.

The pair of you sat in silence as you ate, Rafe stealing glances every so often to check if you were okay. His own eyes were glassy with worry. He wanted to help you, but he didn’t know how.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Rafe smiled.

You attempted a half-smile, but he could tell you didn’t believe him.

“I mean it Y/N, anytime,” he continued, sighed, and placed his arm over the back of the chair. “I get it, you know, and you don’t deserve to be alone.”

You didn’t know how to respond. You wanted to cry, to smile, to thank him for being there, but none of it came out.

“C’mon, let's get you home before anyone notices.”

You nodded as Rafe grabbed his keys and held out his hand. It felt like a lifeline, like he was the only thing holding you together.

“Try to get some sleep,” Rafe spoke as he walked past your bedroom door towards his own.

“Rafe?” you spoke weakly, scared to hear his answer to your next question.

He looked up, his eyes still bright blue even in the moonlight.

“Stay?”

He nodded, a small smile appearing on his lips.

You grabbed some fresh clothes and made your way into the bathroom to change, ignoring the confusing mix of emotions consuming you. Rafe stood by your bed awkwardly, not knowing if you wanted him to sleep on the floor or in bed with you. As he noticed you, he quickly grabbed a pillow to settle on the floor.

“Rafe,” you giggled, “I meant in my bed”.

“Oh,” he replied, chuckling back.

The both of you settled in bed on your separate sides, staring at the ceiling. Since your time in North Carolina, you had never known Rafe Cameron to feel shy, but he did, because that's what you did to him. You made him want to be better, you made him care, you made him soft, and he didn't hate it.

“Night Rafe.”

“Night Y/N.”

You reached up to turn the light off, settling down on your side, cuddling your pillow. Just as you were about to drift off, you felt his arm reach around and pull you into him. You breathed him in, his scent intoxicating.

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed, immediately making you wonder if you’d imagined everything.

As you turned on your side, the scent of Rafe’s cologne filled your senses. You couldn’t help but smile.

Up until last night, Rafe had been difficult, frustrating and tiring to be around, but after thinking about it you began to realise it was all in your head. You pushed everyone away to protect yourself, scared to let anyone in who might hurt you.

You sat up to look at the time, 12 PM, you really needed to get up and eat something.

Luckily for you, the house seemed empty as you padded downstairs. You busied yourself with making your breakfast, feeling calm and somewhat happy for the first time in months. Rafe really had lifted a weight from your chest.

But only after a few spoons of cereal, you felt overwhelmingly sick. You ran towards the bathroom, accidentally smashing your bowl on the way.

You laid on the bathroom floor, dry heaving, trying to ground yourself on the cold tiles. You wanted to shout, but all your energy had dissipated. Only five minutes of happiness before your world came crashing down again in a tidal wave of withdrawal.

“Y/N?” You heard a familiar voice speak with concern.

The voice kept repeating your name, clearly trying to find where you were in the house.

“Y/N,” Rafe breathed, “fuck.” He looked at your state, realising what was going on. Without another word, he picked you up gently, carrying you back to your bed.

All you could do was sob into him, feeling pain, sadness and relief all at once.

“Hey, hey, shhh,” he cooed as he settled you back into bed, pulling blankets over your now shivering body. “It’s gonna be okay, I’m here.”

At that moment, all Rafe could see was himself half a year ago. He was well acquainted with pain and suffering. It physically hurt him to watch you feel the same. He was going to be there for you, whatever it took.

thank you to my beta reader besties: @cameronspecial @amiraisgoingthruit 🤍

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe fic #rafe smut #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe

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waratah-moon · 1 year

Note

rockstar eddie x famous reader with

‘im gunna marry you one day’

🥺🥹

9. I'm gonna marry you one day. 100% sold. 🎂 other birthday week drabbles 🎂 masterlist / send me a message

It had been a while since Star magazine had broken its story that the two of you had been spotted holding hands. America's sweetheart and the terrifying leather-clad front man of the most popular metal band in the world.

It had been a while since the tabloids and gossip rags had taken bets on how long the so called "fling" would last; saying everything from the relationship being a revenge plot against your mother, to Eddie making a deal with the devil to get you to fall in love with him. They saw something between you two that they didn't understand and tried to make sense of it. None of it was true, not really.

In reality, you'd met Eddie at a party at some famous person's house in the Hollywood Hills. You'd heard rumours about him, that he was a playboy, a womanizer, and some part of you was attempting to break out of your "innocent" shell by associating with him, but once you'd actually spoken to Eddie that had all changed.

He asked if you wanted to go somewhere, and when you agreed he'd took you to the lookout on Mulholland Drive. There were no ulterior motives behind it, he just wanted to show you the view, maybe smoke a little and talk. You ended up staying together for hours, watching the sun come up over the city skyline. Eddie wanted to get to know the real you, not the you that was plastered billboards advertising jeans or the you that the world thought they knew. But the you beneath the surface.

The more you and Eddie got to know each other, the more you fell in love. Eddie was different from anyone you'd dated before. For one thing, you'd chosen him yourself, instead of having your mother strategically pick him out for you. It wasn’t without it’s ups and downs, though. You had your own issues of insecurity and trust; mostly stemming from problems with your mother and past relationships where your exes had used you for your fame. Eddie tried his best to be make you feel safe and loved, something you were slowly starting to accept; underneath his rough leather exterior, Eddie was a big softie, something he trusted you wouldn't tell the world.

Eddie was absolutely enamoured by you. He couldn't believe that Hollywood's princess slept in his bed almost every night, or that her toothbrush was next to his in the bathroom cabinet, or that half his closet was filled with her things. He pinched himself every morning when he woke up to see your head on the pillow next to him, wondering how on earth he'd gotten so lucky. Eddie didn't like to admit it, but he was a little insecure too. He was constantly questioning why you'd chosen to be with him, he hadn't grown up in this life like you. He was just some poor kid from Indiana who'd struck gold and been thrust into the limelight. You were a modern day goddess who deserved much more than he could ever give you, but he would try everyday to be worthy of you.

He'd never believed in soulmates until he'd met you. From the moment you'd snuck away from the party to the lookout at Mulholland he knew you were special. You made him feel whole, which was weird because he'd never felt empty before. He wondered if he'd just gotten so used to the feeling he hadn't realised something wasn't quite right until you'd given him the part that was missing.

Eddie had always thought that the moment he knew he was a goner was going to be big. That they'd be fireworks and grand love declarations. He didn't think that the moment he knew he wanted to spend his life with you would be come when he was making dinner, especially not with Jim Croce playing in the background.

Eddie was tipping a box of pasta into a pot of boiling water on the stove when his hand got splashed. He jumped back, swearing in pain.

You looked up from your magazine, eyes wide, "what happened?"

"I got splashed."

You rushed over, turning on the tap and pulling his hand under the cold water. "Things happen, babe." After a few minutes you turned off the tap and kissed his hand. "Sit down, I'll finish dinner."

"I'm fine, baby, I promise."

You pouted, "can I at least help? I'll grate some cheese." You pecked his lips, heading to the fridge. "'Cause every time I tried to tell you the words just came out wrong, so I'll have to say I love you in a song," you sang along with the song.

Eddie smiled, watching you grab a block of parmesan from the shelf, "I'm gonna marry you one day."

You were still humming along to the song, "what'd you say?"

"I said I love you," he grinned, kissing your cheek before going back to the stove.

- This kinda turned into a character study, so sorry if that's not your jam. My characters always end up with too much baggage and lore. I've got a few more rockstar!eddie drabbles in the works and then I'm going to do a series! Sorry in advance, famous!reader, your backstory is a little tragic... but as we say on this blog... only fluffy endings!

#waratah-moon's birthday 2023 #rockstar!eddie #famous!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #maggie writes

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bqstqnbruin · 8 months

Text

Drunk Texts

Me? With another fic? This fast? Ground breaking.

Anyway, this has been sitting in my google drive for way too long and I finally finished it. It's inspired by Drunk Texts by New Rules.

Thank you to my besties @kat-hearts @raysofcrosby @matthewtkachuk and @assmanselke for reading this, but they have no idea what the ending is so hahahaha

If there are typos, I'm so sorry, Grammarly is being weird

Warnings: mentions of sex, alcohol consumption, swearing, the ending

WC: 5k ish

Flashbacks are in italics

_______________________________________

The sun was up, there was a bird outside his window happily chirping, the city below his apartment was alive and bustling on the beautiful late summer day.

Anthony felt like he wanted to die.

He couldn’t remember having a worse hangover, trying to wrack the usable part of his brain to figure out if he had anything besides alcohol the night before. He was pretty sure he had at least one glass of water, thinking he had maybe a bite of food but that proved to be way too little to counteract what was probably a bottle or two of wine and whatever else his teammates had given to him to drink last night.

He sat up from bed, his head pounding as he rubbed his eyes and searched for his phone, haphazardly on his nightstand under what he could only hope was his own underwear and not someone else's. If some other guys boxers were there, Anthony knew he had more than one problem to deal with.

It was the same thing every single time he went drinking after a bad night, his room and probably the rest of his apartment left in a disaster, but the worst part were the drunk texts he knew were sent by him the night before. Drunk texts sent by anyone were horrible, incoherent and easy to blame on being inebriated, but his were always exceptionally bad.

Anthony got out of bed, his head pounding with every movement he made. He knew he had to check his phone at some point. Delaying it any longer would just lead to more issues with his life later on.

The one person he hoped he hadn’t texted was right at the top of his messages, a message that somehow combined French, English, and absolute gibberish into one text, undoubtedly from him, showing up in the preview.

He tapped the messages with Scarlett, the last girl he dated, and still couldn’t get out of his head. She was, unfortunately, used to his drunk or stupid texts, Anthony unable to form a proper thought when it came to her.

‘I like you’ was the only text he could decipher at first glance, an “oh fuck,” escaping his lips while he tried to piece together why his teammates would let him not only drink so much, but keep his phone on him the entire time.

“Who is that over there?” Anthony asked, staring at the girl with long, dark hair, talking to one of his new teammates.

“Uh, that’s Quinn,” Brock said, “your teammate.”

“No, the girl he’s somehow talking to,” Anthony replied.

“Not sure, I normally see Quinn with her when we come here, though. She always shows up when Quinn texts her,” Brock shrugged, “I think her name is Sarah? Sage?”

So she probably likes Quinn then, if she’s showing up when he asks. He shakes his head, “You only know that her name maybe starts with an S, don’t you?”

“Yep.”

Anthony sighed, trying to take in the girl Quinn was talking to. He swore he had seen her before, something about her trying to work its way through his memory.

“Go talk to her.”

“What?” he asked, looking at his teammate.

“I promise you that Quinn does not have enough in him to pull a girl like that.”

“Isn’t he one of your best friends?”

“Yes, that’s why I can say it. Now, go.” Brock practically had to shove Anthony away from the table.

Anthony stood there frozen, staring at Quinn and this girl while his mind went a mile a minute as to how he was going to talk to her. ‘This is ridiculous,’ he thought to himself, ‘she’s just a girl, talking to Quinn. If Quinn can talk to her, so can I.’

He felt his entire body shaking under the weight of himself as he tried to make his way over to the girl and Quinn. He could just tell Quinn he wanted to buy him a drink, celebrate the win they had the other night, something, anything.

“Hey, Tito,” Quinn called out, pulling Anthony from his thoughts. Quinn and the girl were staring at him, the heat rushing to his face as she smiled at him. “This is Scarlett.”

Anthony knew he had to speak. She was staring at him. She was smiling at him. She was clearly waiting for him to say something to her, but all functions that his body possessed suddenly stopped, including the one where he was able to get out something as simple as, “hi.”

“Um,” Scarlett started, Quinn standing to the side laughing at his teammate, “Quinn tells me you just moved here from New York?”

“L-long Island, um, yeah,” he managed to get out, starting to think of all the ways he wanted to disappear into the Canadian wilderness out of embarrassment.

“What’s it like there? What’s there to do?” she asked him, Quinn slowly inching away from them.

“Uh, leave.” As soon as the words left his lips, he shut his eyes, hoping that when he opened them, he would discover that the stupid things he said didn’t happen and were just a dream. He opened his eyes to see Scarlett biting her lip, trying not to laugh at him.

She took a sip of her drink, not breaking eye contact and making Anthony’s heart skip in the process. “You’re either way too drunk to be talking to someone right now, or I, for some reason, make you really nervous.”

Anthony lets out a sigh, a smile on his face. “What if I told you it was both?”

There was something about the laugh that escaped her lips after he told her that that made him forget everything. He swore he blacked out while talking to her, but not from the alcohol. He had never felt more sober than that first time he met her. He remembered nothing about that night except the way her eyes lit up when she smiled, a crooked smile spreading across her face when she was flirting with him, the way he knew heat was rushing to her face, probably from the second hand embarrassment of him attempting to flirt back.

“So, you and that girl looked pretty cozy last night,” Brock teased him the next morning after practice. None of them had been particularly happy that they were called for last minute drills, all of them sweating the alcohol from the night before more than anything else.

“Are you in love?” Quinn teased, his voice dripping with that pre-teen gooeyness that got under Anthony’s skin.

“I just met her,” he started.

“Love at first sight exists, my friend,” Elias joins in, hitting Anthony hard enough on his back that he nearly fell out of his stall.

“Dear god, I need to go back to New York,” Anthony groans, drowned out by the sounds of his teammates laughing.

“There’s no way Long Island is better than here,” they kept going.

“We called it the ‘God forsaken island,’ growing up,” Quinn added, the guys laughing even harder as they continued to rib Anthony.

“I liked you all better when you didn’t know me.”

“You know we like you better when we make fun of you,” Elias tried to reassure him. “Have you at least talked to her since last night?”

“How would I do that?”

“You got her number?” Quinn questioned.

Anthony tried to think back to the night before, failing to remember anything past his initial meeting with Scarlett and the absolute fear that he felt trying to talk to her in those first few minutes. “When did that happen?”

“Right after the eighth green tea shot.”

“You let me have eight?”

“Scarlett kept buying. I wasn’t going to argue with her,” Quinn said, holding his hands up in defense. “We tried to get you to stop, but after the third one, you threatened to pour them all over Brock.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t going to let you get my white shirt dirty.”

“God forbid you get your five dollar Walmart shirt a little dirty with some alcohol.”

“Hey, no-”

“Guys!” Anthony finally cut in, his teammates all turning to look at him. “I don’t have her number.”

“Have you looked at your phone since last night?”

“Only to turn off my alarm when it was still on ‘do not disturb.’”

“Scarlett a hundred percent has texted you already if you haven’t texted her. She’s not one to wait for days for a guy to reach out to her,” Quinn told him.

“I don’t think I like that you know so much about her,” Anthony mumbled.

“I met her the first weekend I was here my rookie year and she somehow has appeared in my life every weekend since. Check your phone.”

The guys start to file out and head home, Anthony and Quinn sitting there by themselves. Anthony didn’t even know what he would say to her. How does he start a conversation with a girl he barely knows, who he was too nervous to talk to the night before?

“You make her sound like a stalker,” Anthony sighed, trying to search for his phone.

“I’ve known her for years and she hasn’t stalked anyone.”

“That you know of.”

“You miss a hundred percent of the shots you don’t take.”

“And that is the closest to being Gretzky that you’ll ever be.”

“Just check your phone. You were babbling like a dumbass the second you met her. I haven’t known you for as long as I’ve known her, but I definitely know you well enough that you don’t act like that around girls. Ever.”

Quinn finally got up to head home, leaving Anthony alone in their locker room to do as he pleased.

Anthony sat back in his stall, letting his head hit the back and getting engulfed in his clothing hanging behind him. What would he even text her? Is it too soon to text her? How could he send anything that would be good enough for her to want to respond?

He finally pulled out his phone to start going through his notifications. News from around the league, random DMs from people on Instagram, a text from his mom that he would forget to respond to until after she was asleep for the night, and a message from someone with just an emoji as their contact. It was the blushing emoji, Anthony remembering Scarlett telling him that her friends called her ‘Scar,’ and that was the first emoji that popped up when someone tried to search for her name.

‘So how often do you get a girl's number and not text them back after that night?’

Anthony couldn’t figure out if the banging was just the throbbing headache he had or someone actually at his door.

“What the fuck could you possibly be doing here this early?” he groaned at his teammates standing at this door.

“It’s 2 pm,” Quinn says, pushing his way into Anthony’s apartment without an invite, coffees and bags of food in hand.

“It was either us doing the wellness check or the police,” Brock adds, flopping down on the couch and sending Anthony’s phone on to the floor.

“I don’t trust them to drive safely anywhere after they’ve spent the night drinking, so I had to come, unfortunately,” Elias tells Anthony, picking up his phone off the ground and handing it to him. “Has that girl texted you back yet?”

Anthony’s head whipped up in shock. He really had no memory of last night. “Girl?”

“Yeah, you know, those who identify with she and her pronouns?” Quinn says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Can you be a girl and not use those pronouns?” Brock asks while chomping on a bagel.

“Very important questions for a later time, please,” Anthony interrupts, trying to look through his contacts to see if there was any name he didn’t recognize. “What girl?”

“You don’t remember?”

Anthony sat on the couch next to Brock, throwing his head back and letting out a guttural sigh. “Why would I remember anything from last night? That would make my life so much easier, and obviously, we can’t have that.” There was no way he could meet a girl and not remember her, right? There was no way he could possibly have drank that much alcohol to the point where he blacked out if he was with his teammates.

“Not your usual type, but still pretty.”

“She was hitting on Quinn first.”

“She was not.”

“She only stopped because you’re too dense to realize when someone is hitting on you.”

“You could have had a relationship for the last five years if you picked up on that girl in the coffee shop.”

“That’s-” “Hello?” Anthony interrupts his teammates. “We were talking about me?”

“Oh, yeah,” Brock says. “You really don’t remember the girl who bought you like four of the drinks you had?”

‘ ‘What are you doing today?’ came up on Anthony’s phone from an unknown number.

Scarlett had called him immediately after he sent his text to make sure he was ok. “Ti,” came through his speaker, the nickname she called him that made his heart race for no reason. “It’s two in the morning, what do you mean what am I doing today?”

“I want to see you today,” Anthony slurred, drunk from his night with his teammates after winning the first round of the playoffs.

“Only if you promise to get some water right now,” she giggled. “You know you forget to hydrate when you’re celebrating.”

“Come out with us. I want to see you.”

“I am in bed already,” she said, hearing Anthony let out a drunken groan. “I’m going to be helping Brooke at her street fair stand in the afternoon, I can meet you after that for you to take me on a date then.”

“I want to take you out now,” he whined.

“Dinner tomorrow at your favorite restaurant. You’ll pay.”

“I’ll pay.”

Scarlett hung up before Anthony could say anything else.

The next morning, he woke up on Quinn’s couch, Elias sitting on the chair, Brock on the floor for who knows what reason. He didn’t even remember getting back to Quinn’s apartment, let alone how he ended up on the couch.

“Why are we here?” Anthony asked, no one in particular.

“I was the most sober of the four of us,” he heard Quinn yell from the kitchen.

Following his teammates' voice, he attempted to get up, a pounding headache nearly knocking him off his feet. “How did that happen?”

“I’m not sure, but I fucking hated it,” Quinn mumbled. “Even Elias threw up four times last night.”

“It might be five times soon,” Elias said, stumbling into the kitchen behind Anthony.

“Good morning sunshines,” Brock yelled, groans coming from all three guys in the kitchen. “What’s everyone doing today after we get breakfast together?”

“Plotting your murder,” Elias muttered massaging his head with his fingers as if he were trying to will the hangover away through that method.

“At least wait till our season is done for that.”

“I think I’m seeing Scarlett,” Anthony said, trying to remember if his conversion with her the night before was real or not.

Quinn hands out cups of coffee, a confused look on his face. “Like, you’re seeing her right now? In the room with us?”

“What’s it like having two brain cells that constantly have to fight for third place?” Anthony groaned, “No, you dumbass, I mean tonight. I’m seeing her tonight.”

“You’re finally going to see her somewhere that isn’t a bar and in a state that isn’t halfway fucked?”

“I actually think I’m going to join Elias in murdering you,” Anthony countered.

“You can’t hang out with Scarlett if you’re in jail for murdering me.”

“What are you going to do with her today?” Elias asked, changing the subject.

“I have no idea. I might be paying for whatever it is we do, though.”

Anthony spent the rest of the morning getting annoyed at his teammates as they teased him, calling him a simp for Scarlett when he had only interacted with her in person while they were both drunk. They hadn’t even been on a real date yet. Scarlett telling him to take her out that night was going to be their first.

“Look, I need to impress her,” he cuts them off after they get back to Quinn’s place. “So either you are all going to help me figure out how I do that, or I’m going to put in for a trade request in the off season.”

The four of them managed to put together a plan that didn’t make Tito want to kill them. The first step was to go to Prototype, her favorite coffee shop in the city, and getting drinks for her and Brooke and surprising them at Brooke’s street fair. He had their orders saved in his phone for god only knows what reason, but he knew they would come in handy at some point.

“We should come, too,” Quinn said, grabbing his stuff to follow Anthony out the door.

“You should not,” Anthony protested.

“We want to see what you’re like out of your natural habitat,” Brock teased.

“What the ever living fuck does that mean?”

“I think it means they want to see you try to flirt with her when you’re sober,” Elias translated.

“No. Nope. You three are not coming.”

“You don’t have a car to get yourself anywhere and you still don’t know how to navigate the public transit system here.”

“Fuck.”

Anthony reluctantly let his teammates take him where he needed to go, hoping that he could lose them at the massive street fair that Brooke and Scarlett were working. Thankfully, his teammates had the attention span of squirrels, soon veering off from him and leaving him to wander with a tray of three drinks, hoping to impress the girl he desperately wanted to see sooner than that night.

“Ti?” he heard from behind him. “Anthony, what are you doing here?”

He turned to see Scarlett walking up to him from across a sea of people, her smile alone making him lose all brain function. He should have known she would have the same effect on him sober as she did when he was drunk. “I, um,” he started, trying to remember what his reasoning for being there even was to begin with. Why did he have to see her so early when all she did was make him freak out in the best way possible? “I brought you coffee.”

He practically spilled it down the front of her by shoving it into her chest. “Um, thank you?”

“And for Brooke, too.”

“Oh! You haven’t even met her yet?”

“You told me that you two have the same favorite coffee order from Prototype, so I just got two of them,” he told her, feeling his cheeks turn bright pink.

She gave him a soft smile, clearly impressed that he would remember not only her order, just her best friends, no matter how simple they were. “I knew you were a good one.”

“Do you want us to text her?” Brock asks, craning his neck to try to read over Anthony’’s shoulder at his phone.

“We can tell her you’re a good one,” Elias offers, the first hint of sincerity coming through his voice that none of his other teammates had shown to him all night.

“Or that you’re bad,” Quinn draws out.

“I’m not a thirteen year old boy trying to text his middle school crush, Jesus Christ.”

“Tell her you’re like him,” Quinn adds.

“You’re Jewish, I thought you don’t believe in him,” Elias asks.

“Well, yeah, but he was still a historical figure. We just don’t believe the religious aspect that-”

“Hey!” Anthony interrupts, again. “Am I just here as comic relief?”

“You have to be funny to be considered that.”

“Ok, I’m leaving,” Anthony gets up from the couch, only to be pulled back down by Brock.

“We’re teasing you. You know this. And we’re in your apartment, where are you going to go?”

“What do I do?” Anthony groans, throwing his head back with his hands over his eyes.

“Text her back or ignore her.”

“No, I mean,” he groans again, “I texted Scarlett last night.” Much to his surprise, he’s met with silence from his friends for the first time that morning. “That’s what shuts you up?”

The three of them exchange worried glances, making Anthony’s heart race and head throb even more than the hangover already had. He knew drinking anything was going to make him do something stupid. He just didn’t think his teammates would also agree.

He handed them his phone, letting them see the string of stupidity from the night before.

“There’s no way you texted her all of this,” Brock said.

“You can literally see the texts on his screen,” Elias groans.

“God, you’re an idiot,” Scarlett told him between kissing him, one hand on the back of his neck pulling him towards her, the other on his guiding it towards her waist.

Anthony didn’t know what to say as he felt every inch of her, pulling her back towards his bed. He sat down, his lips still connected to hers. Scarlett straddled his waist, her fingers gracing the hem of his shirt.

‘God, this has to be perfect,’ raced through Anthony’s mind, every other thought that wasn’t about Scarlett unable to break through his brain. His heart started racing as the two of them took off his shirt, fiddling with hers next to slip it off over her head, Anthony wanting nothing more than for his lips to be back on hers as fast as possible.

He moved her off his lap, gently pushing her onto her back. He took a moment, both of them catching their breath while Anthony’s heart continued to race. “Wow,” he let out, Scarlett giggling at him. “You are just.” He couldn’t find the words to describe who she was, his mind still blank from anything other than her name.

“Do you want to…” she asked, drifting off, her eyes traveling down his body.

“Oh, god, yes.” Anthony said, crashing his lips to hers, feeling her smile against his.

‘This has to be perfect,’ kept running through Anthony’s head as they stripped more of what they were wearing, piece by piece. ‘She’s perfect so this has to be perfect.’

She was ready. He could feel she was ready. But Anthony?

“Hey, hey, wait,” she stopped him. “Are you ok?”

He hung his head down, her hands pushing his hair back off his face. “I’m so sorry.”

“We can stop, if you want to,” her voice came out small, clearly upset.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, rolling off her, unable to look at her. The two of them lied there in silence, a long pause that made Anthony more anxious by the second.

“Are we ok?” Scarlett asked, finally breaking the silence.

Anthony stared at the ceiling, trying to figure out what to say. “Yes?”

He heard her sigh, getting up to put her clothes back on. “Let me know when you’re sure,” she said to him, leaving his room.

As soon as he heard his front door shut, he covered his face with his hands, letting out a deep groan. He wanted it to be perfect. He had been trying so hard to make everything for her as perfect as he was able to make it. Why the fuck did he have to get into his head like that.

Anthony reached for his phone, pulling up the group chat with his teammates. ‘Who can come here ASAP?’ he sent, putting his phone back on his nightstand without even waiting for an answer, rolling over immediately and pulling his sheets over his face.

Anthony didn’t know how long he had been asleep, hearing his front door open while he was still in his bed, his clothing strewn across his floor.

“Tito, where are you?” he heard Elias’s voice carry through his place.

“Fuck,” he muttered, throwing himself out of bed to try to find something resembling pants before they could make it to his bedroom.

“Tit-oh.” Quinn said, bursting through his bedroom door before he could fully get his sweatpants on. “Guys I found him.” “Jesus, Quinn,” Anthony said, nearly falling over. “You couldn’t wait?”

“Had to make sure you weren’t dead,” Brock said, spraying a mouth full of crumbs of who knows what everywhere, Elias following him with an annoyed expression. “We thought you were with Scarlett tonight.”

“He clearly was,” Elias said, gesturing to the mess that was his bedroom at the moment.

“So what, you finished, she left, and your first thought was to call us?” Quinn asked, plopping down on Anthony’s bed, Brock following suit.

Elias and Anthony took the floor, his three teammates trying to read the expression on his face. “No, I didn’t finish.”

“With Scarlett?”

“I didn’t even,” Anthony started, putting his face back in his hands. “I didn’t even start.”

“Oh,” was all he heard from Elias, Brock and Quinn both silent for once. “We thought you really liked her?”

“God, yes, I do,” Anthony said. “This was supposed to be the first time we slept together and I fucked it up.”

“That happens,” Elias shrugged.

“It’s not even just that. She asked if we were ok and I couldn’t answer her.”

“Why would you do that?” Quinn asked.

“I panicked. I’ve been panicking. Since the first time I saw her, I have been freaking out because she deserves more than what I can give her, and it fucks me up,” he let out, surprised he was even able to put anything into words. “I mean, Brock, you had to physically push me to her because I was frozen. Quinn stood there when I couldn’t even talk to her. We were all here the night I freaked out because I didn’t know how to text her, or what to do for our first date. I have been out of my mind about her since the second I saw her, and because of that I have fucked up so badly, I don’t know if she wants to see me ever again.”

“Ok, you told her last night you wanted to see her,” Brock reads out.

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“That night she left my apartment when we tried to…” Anthony trails off, not really wanting to recount the night again.

“What about the last time that you talked to her?” Quinn asks, handing Anthony his phone back.

“She had called me one night after a game a few days later to say that she was sorry she left that night the way she did but she was upset that I didn’t have an answer for her.”

“And?”

“And we talked it out, I thought we were fine, she said we would talk later, and neither of us reached out again.”

“So you both ghosted each other until you sent her a bunch of drunk texts last night,” Quinn says.

Anthony groans, throwing his head back again. “Fuck, yes, Quinn. What do I do?”

“Well she hasn’t answered yet, so she either hasn’t seen it or also doesn’t know what to do.”

“At least start with telling her you were drunk and that you’re sorry you sent all of those texts,” Elias suggests.

“Or we go over to her place and you ask her yourself.” The three of them look at Brock, Quinn, and Elias liking the idea, Anthony absolutely mortified. “I mean, you haven’t seen her in a while, you haven’t talked to her in a while, and drunk you clearly wanted to change that last night.”

“What about sober you, right now?” Quinn asks.

“Hungover me,” Anthony corrects, “Wants to go to bed until sober me reappears.”

“Well that won’t be until tomorrow,” Brock points out, “So what would sober you want to do?”

Anthony smiles, his teammates knowing what he wants to do, what he’s wanted to do since that first night at the bar.

“I’ve got the keys,” Elias says, the four of them rushing out the door.

Anthony felt his heart racing as Elias drove through the city, surprised he even knew where Scarlett’s building was. By the time he pulled up, his palms were soaked, his throat was dry, his legs anxiously unable to stop shaking. The guys had to practically throw him out the door, Anthony having no idea what the hell he was going to say.

He managed to get up to her apartment, thankful that he was well known enough that the doorperson let him in, worried that the security was loose enough that they just let him in at the same time. He knocked on her door, finally starting to calm down as he waited for her.

Anthony didn’t hear any movement in her apartment, knocking again after waiting for what felt like forever. He felt his phone buzz, a text in the group chat asking how it was going from Quinn, immediately followed up by Elias scolding him.

He knocked a third time, hoping that she would answer.

She wasn’t there. That, or she was ignoring whoever was at the door, given that he was showing up unannounced.

He turns back around, heading back down to Elias’s car, letting them know he was waiting for the elevator.

The door opened, Anthony moving to the side to let the person already there off while reading the texts that were flooding in from his teammates.

“Anthony?” he hears, forcing him to look up from his phone.

“Scarlett,” he lets out, both of them smiling at each other.

#anthony beauvillier #vancouver canucks fics #nhl #nhl fics #hockey #hockey fics #Anthony Beauvillier fic #quinn hughes #elias pettersson #brock boeser #vancouver canucks #Canucks

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wachi-delectrico · 2 months

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Tank update!

On plants:

I keep having to trim back the rotala rotundifolia because it grows at insane rates and covers all the other plants, the light gluttons. The cryptocorine wendtii are doing much better: one that had completely melted is growing back leaves at really quick pace for a crypt; the one I accidentally cut the leaves of (was trying to cut a bad leaf and accidentally cut that one and the only other healthy leaf the plant had) is coming back and growing a new leaf slowly but surely after I cut its bad-looking roots and replanted it.

I'm fiddling with the amount of potassium I should add as fertilizer, since many plants started showing signs of a potassium overdose - started at 5ml, now 3ml to see if any signs of a potassium deficit show up.

I've also been experimenting with the placement for the CO3 diffuser* (*see: a chunk of aquarium sponge pushed into hose, lol). I've now moved it to where the bubbles rise to the filter's waterfall, so it naturally pushes and distributes smaller bubbles around while bigger bubbles get broken into smaller bubbles. The first location I put it on, one of the corners, worked ok-ish but it wasted a lot of CO2. The second location was right underneath the filter intake, testing if the filter's impeller could maybe break the bubbles and dissolve the CO2 in the water before going back into the tank, but that not only didn't work but also put extra stress on the impeller which made it very noisy and annoying lol. Its current location as previously described seems to be doing the best out of the three, with the plants releasing a lot of oxygen! :3

Lastly, I'm still experimenting with the light fixture. Went from two 325lm 6500k bulbs and one 475lm 2700k bulb, to changing one of the 325lm bulbs for an 800ml 6500k one, two having two 800lm 6500k + one 475lm 2700k, to taking the 2700k out. The two 800lm bulbs have a good reach and colour temperature, buuuut they did leave a darker spot right in the middle where the hygrophilla angustifolia are, so I added one little 325lm 6500k bulb back. Right now, I'm using two 800lm bulbs and one 325lm bulb, all 6500k, with the dimmer one right in the middle.

On water chemistry:

I've gotten the nitrate levels down considerably, from 120ppm (very unsafe and bad) to 20ppm (good :3), turns out the food I was using to up the ammonia created inconmensurable and uncontrollable amounts of waste, gracias Shulet ni para ciclar acuarios servís.

Speaking of ammonia, I'd gotten the ammonia down to 0ppm but these last few days I've noticed it increase up to 0.25ppm - possibly due to a drop in pH caused by the DIY CO2, which could mean the "ammonia" detected is actually ammonium, much less toxic than ammonia, as the API Ammonia test detects both and has no way to distinguish between the two. As An Autistic Guy obsessed with numbers and data and accuracy I'm so happy that the numbers are inaccurate and the test is so vague, I love that so much, it doesn't make me want to pull my teeth out at all (I am in pain).

Despite the "ammonia" issues, things look good rn! Especially thanks to keeping nitrates under control at long last, the presence of visible algae has started to decrease. I've been taking the brown algae out with a stick, and have been dosing hydrogen peroxide locally to the harder-to-deal-with filament algae to weaken it enough for the snails to go at it. I'm happy to report that the hydrogen peroxide has weakened the filament algae to a point where the nerite snail is able to eat it.

(All the little dots floating in the water are planorbis snail larvae that hatched today!! Yippee!!!)

On stocking:

It's still just snails for now. A week or two ago I discovered a bunch of dead or half dead planorbis snails in the filter intake tube, victims of the siren call of all the brown algae within it - apparently - though two adults survived and have laid various egg sacks on the glass, on plants, etc, so their presence in the tank will make a triumphant comeback for sure. The one adult bladder snail I had also fell victim to the filter intake, though that one's babies had been crawling around for a few days before its untimely death; there'll be plenty of snails going around for everyone. Don't worry, I've fixed the issue now and snails with shells that are 2mm thick or more will be safe from now on. The nerite hasn't laid any eggs yet, though when it does I'll probably scrape them off (they don't hatch in freshwater).

I'll be gone from monday til thursday, and though I'm a little worried (as always) I am also confident in that things will be fine once I come back. I'm really excited, I should be able to add the tank's main attraction, a betta fish, very soon. :3

#rambling #fishblr #Peceraposteo #planted aquarium #planted tank #Animals #Snail #Nerite snail

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anteroom-of-death · 29 days

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Teacher's Pet part 16

Synopsis: The reader feels off after last night’s activities. She starts to flounder a bit, and she meets another cautionary tale. What?

A/n: I'm so so so sorry that this took so long. Life has happened, so yay! But here's Gwen! Yay! To all who read this, rhank you so much! And to my mutual, you are the best.

Needless to say, you woke up sore. The kind of sore it would take you a little while to get out of bed for. Your usual jolt out of sleep happened, but it was stopped by the Time Lord's vice grip on your body. He seemed to be still asleep. His hearts thrumming in a rhythm of four lulling you out of you usual first moments of anxiety you always suffered from upon waking.

You could feel every bite and thrust of the night before. He was like an animal in heat. The way he acted felt quite literally couldn’t be described as any way but in rut.

Did Time Lords have mating schedules? You knew the gender thing was a bit murky. But did they have a mating schedule? You didn’t know if a hybrid of human and Time Lord was possible…

Or if the morning-after pill would work.

You silently begged your IUD to put in the work.

Plus, would the abortion clinic be able to deal with it? Or would you have to break your own rules and go off planet to some space clinic to deal with that?

Your singular heart raced in it’s cage.

You pushed some of these truly silly thoughts aside.

A dark, but nice thought of you knocked up with his kid entered your brain. Maybe you’d look good pregnant…and if it were his kid?

You swallowed and laughed at yourself, You must really be in a committed relationship of you had domestic bliss coming to your mind. Derailing your plans and solid oaths…

You felt mentally changed too. It was difficult to put your finger on it, maybe it was his possessiveness of you in the act. Or the fact that he was changing his entire lifestyle to suit you. Sometimes felt…distinctively off.

Not that you minded. Change was good.

But it lay there as surely as you did, covered in bruises and muscles still shaking to their core. An inexplicable feeling, a haunting sensation.

You laid next to him quietly. Unable to break the moment where it stood. The moment was not half bad in itself.

You noticed the hearts behind you start to speed up. You turned your body gently in the hold and saw his eyes gazed up at you.

“How long have you been up?” You questioned.

“Seconds.”

It was satisfactory enough for you.

“Hey, do you really have to meet with this woman? We can play hooky and I don’t know…get a Chinese and sit by the river.” You tempted. You didn’t want to leave his side at all. You felt the urge to curl into his ribcage and stay there. In that bed. Indefinitely.

“I have to do my job…” His lashes caught on themselves as he rolled his eyes.

“Fair enough.” You replied as you thought about the money you personally were missing out on. You’d feel it in the middle of the next term when you couldn’t even afford a packet of crisps and a cheap beer to take the edge off.

Yet alone cigarettes and cheap lingerie…

“Yeah…” You didn’t push.

“Free to come with me, my fawn.” He tightened his grip on you as he nestled his face in your hair, pushing his forehead to yours.

“You mentioned some person from another organization? What’s her deal?” Curiosity threatened…

“Oh, yes. Gwen Cooper-Williams. She was a part of this organization funded by the monarchy. To investigate and harvest alien technology and be off the books about it. Was started because Victoria and I had some issues. My old friend…” The word friend seemed to hiss its way out of his teeth. Lots of baggage there, you noted. “Took over the Cardiff branch. Was trying to reform it from the inside in my honor. She was his second-in-command. Everyone died. Except them.”

You felt grim. Death followed the Doctor like that kilo that you kept gaining and losing did.

However, the grimy thought swept itself away with the blink of those perfect eyes and the warmth of the bed you shared. He might have been cooler than you in body temperature, but the blankets and your warm, human body made it a comfortable furnace…

The horrors of the Doctor’s ever-widening world were getting bigger, but you weren’t reacting how you probably should be.

More differences.

“I think she may be bringing her family…A real family affair.”

“Like Mary J. Blige?” You tried a little bit of banter.

“Maybe…that sounds familiar. But I can’t place it…” He mused, seemingly inhaling your exhale.

“Of course. “

You found yourself having to leave the warm pile of blankets and him, his alarm on a watch announced itself.

You let out a puff of air as you pouted. He got out of bed and you crinkled the bedding around your neck and tucked your chin over it.

“You can come with me or get out.” He bribed against your petulance.

“Fine!” You made a show of it as you got out of bed. By the time you had resigned yourself to being officially ‘up’, he was mostly dressed.

“Humans, you really are a bunch of kids at times.” He observed as he zipped up his hoodie and went for his blazer.

“Weird thing to say to someone you actively sleep with.” You shot back as you crouched over your suitcase and started picking through the clothes.

“Well, I am hundreds of years older than you, aren’t I, my darling fawn.” He pet your hair and traced his way down to stroke the underside of your throat. You liked the sensation and how it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Mmmm, yeah.” You leaned into it as he took his other hand and glided it through your hair. You halted your search for a pair of fresh underwear and a top.

“Be good and I’ll get you permanent clearance here.” He jokingly chided.

“Okay…” You sighed as you didn’t really want clearance, but it was a nice offer anyhow.

You got up and started to dress yourself. Nothing too special, just an old tee-shirt and jeans, you didn’t know what all the day entailed, so you went for easy everything. You thanked your lucky stars you had a nice jacket tucked away for any night time casual excursions.

You went into the bathroom and did your normal skincare and some basic make-up, and to cover up the love bites he gave you. With all that, you kept your hair down.

These were no ones business, you felt.

“I knew a person, she needed three mirrors to do her make-up.” He placed his right hand in the air and moved it about to elaborate that.

“I mean…it helps.” You shrugged as you finished up sticking on a coat of lip gloss.

“She had an abnormally round face.”

“Cool.”

He offered you the crook of his arm and you grabbed your purse.

You met the head of UNIT, Petronella and some others you couldn’t recall, and some soldiers in the entrance as some very attractive middle-aged woman with dark brown, almost black hair and green eyes walked in. She wore a utilitarian leather jacket and a pair of combat boots. She held a laptop bag and a messenger bag was slung over her shoulder.

Her freckles were captivating…

She was accompanied by a slightly-heavy set man, a young teen girl and a preteen boy. The man had a big rucksack on and had a laptop bag as well.

“Oy! You’re Kate?” She walked up to Kate Stewart and offered to shake her hand.

“Yes, pleased to finally meet you, Missus Cooper-Williams. I trust your trip up from Porth Colmon was pleasant.” Kate went in with a degree of professionalism that went over the head of both you and this Gwen character.

“I got a note from Martha Jones to wish you well…” Kate added on.

“I’ll send her an email.” The woman’s Welsh accent trilled delightfully through your skull.

You felt yourself grow several shades of embarrassed.

“I’m the Doctor.” Your obviously-there boyfriend motioned over, offering himself into the fray.

You stood by and felt your cheeks burn as she stared at him. You felt like you didn’t belong. You knew you probably did. You felt entitled to belong here.

“You look…familiar? Why do I know you?” Gwen took a look at him, a haunted expression seemed to catch in her throat as she hitched her breath out of her lungs.

“I’ve been told my face is unforgettable.” He smiled and swished his fingers up over.

“I’ll figure it out.”

“You do that.”

The professionals took over and ushered everyone into a basement digital archive.

You made yourself useful and got everyone’s tea and coffee order and went to the small coffee station in the corner.

“I take it you’re the new Jack and Martha? A new Rose?” Gwen said as she took her tea out of your hand.

“I guess?” You felt a pang of something, jealously perhaps. More of that sinking that you felt at the botched Narcotic Another meeting for companions.

However, the minute these emotions took hold, you felt yourself being washed in a wave of self-reassurance. You were different, you were his fawn. His favorite.

It felt off, but you sighed in relief.

“When you get thrown out, yeah, Torchwood may be now gone. But my sofa is open. He dumped Jack in a bad place far from home.” She whispered. “If you get dumped in the past, here on Earth, here's all my addresses. Tell me you’re a friend of Jack. I’ll retcon myself obviously. But if it’s in the future…” She quickly scribbled down some addresses and slid them into your pants’ pocket.

You looked over, a stabbing in your eyes at your Doctor, who was shredding wires to optimize intake, sonic screwdriver wedged into his mouth.

You felt yourself start to shake, but more of your brain started talking at you. It told you that he’d never do that to you, and didn’t you recall that you never would go into space, let alone go back in time. It was a warm, cloying feeling, not unlike the blankets that you so unwillingly left that morning.

You inhaled and the sigh of relief came up again.

You were his favorite little fawn, after all!

You sat back and let everyone go about. The children were engrossed on their phones.

You still felt off, and you worried maybe your IUD got slightly dislodged after last night’s activities.

Could you get pregnant if that happened? You couldn’t recall reading that in the unholy ream of paper that was included in its placement.

You stared at them. Pondering what would happen if you were getting pregnant as you sat there. What if you couldn’t get rid of a half-human, half-Time Lord fetus? Were you prepared for motherhood?

You had so much life and plans for the future.

A future that was already disrupted, but you were still going to have one.

A baby, regardless of species, would ruin that…

Could you be a good parent? Did you have that in you? The Doctor had parenting experience. He mentioned a granddaughter. You didn’t know how good of one he was. You didn’t know that. You couldn’t…

You shook yourself mentally by your shoulders. You clearly were losing it. You had to snap out of it.

Good lord! Was this you in a healthy relationship? Sappy and soft? Thinking of total domesticity?

A side of you you’ve never met…

It was all reasonably quick in the end. The entire operation wrapped up as quickly as it had started.

“I’d recommend you to a few museums for your children…” You heard Kate say to Gwen and Rhys. (You had heard Gwen say his name quite a few times in the last hour and a half.)

“No, we’re going back to Wales. Quick trip to this dump you call our capital, go back.” Gwen said. No love clearly lost there!

The Doctor snickered.

As she left, she shot one final look at you. It seemed imploring. Then one final, baffled look at the Doctor.

She took her menagerie and vanished into the busy streets.

Apparently the Doctor was needed at meetings, and you were given the afternoon off. You got a reassuring kiss and told to have fun. London was free for you to use and abuse.

You took it. You needed the fresh air. A quick, real-life reality check. Away from whatever BBC-level, sci-fi bullshit your life had become.

You found yourself fiddling with your necklaces and adjusting them against the bruises on your neck and shoulders. The shirt you were wearing wasn’t a good enough barrier, but it was good enough for now.

You found yourself in some park near a Tesco Superstore and holding a coffee from a near-by café you hardly remembered ordering. It was growing cold.

You broke down, fully embarrassed about the day. Not only how useless you felt, but how you were so sick with love that you weren’t even able to have yourself a sense of worry.

You felt weak.

You would have usually tried to buck yourself up, to make yourself and your ego take precautions against this. But it didn’t come. All you could think about was him. His everything down to the way his toes were shaped.

You felt like without him you’d physically fall into shards.

Truly, relationships weren’t for you.

But you dare not do anything.

You loved him too much.

You made a note to go see your gynecologist and perhaps get a therapist.

You started to light up a cigarette but you gazed up at the sky as it burnt itself up.

You got a text from him wondering where you were. You shared your location. He was on his way.

Suddenly, all your apprehension and agony of the situation vanished. He was coming here! He was coming for you! He was going to join you! Your Doctor was coming to spend the rest of the day with you on this park bench! He’d never desert you or let you go away from him!

You fought to get yourself under control, you may be sickeningly in love, but you were in public…

You sipped your ice-cold, formerly-hot coffee and waited for him to join you.

Thus, he did.

He slid up besides you and looked out across the park.

“So what did you do?” He asked in earnest.

You felt instantly clear-headed and in a less pensive mood. “Just this, went on the Tube. Wandered. I don’t want to be a tourist.”

“Yeah, you blend right in.” He trilled, you took it for sarcasm.

You shrugged and exaggerated your hands. Your ring on your left index finger lightly clicked off the side of the bench as you slid it back down at rest.

“What’s something you wish you could do? Anything in the whole of the city! Name one thing and it’s yours…” He revved himself up.

He wrapped a finger in your hair and curled it in to the base of your skull as he went to stroke your jaw slightly and repeatedly.

It sent a shiver down your spine and pleasure to your core. It made you throb a tad.

Here you were, coming undone, in public. Children were around! So were dogs! Not an optimal place…

But nonetheless, you felt a heavy pull in your gut as you leaned your jaw up and felt the sky beam a ray of sun onto you. His fingers felt next to glorious as they stroked you and the entwined finger anchored his entire hand on you. The way his thumb was swiping over your lips was absolutely criminal. The skin on your lower lip was prickling and getting more sensitive with every sweep. Your moan was slight and reverberated throughout his thumb. You parted your lips in hope that he’d place it inside your mouth.

“This feels nice. Can we do this?” You cooed.

“Maybe later.” He used his entwined finger to pull your head up and kiss you and untangling himself from your head.

You dwelled on his ask of you for a moment before you whipped out your phone to consult your list you made previously in preparation.

“Gunnersbury Park Museum? The Natural History Museum? I’ve got a lot of cafés and little record stores and book shops listed. But you could chose…I mean. You could probably correct the exhibits if they’re wrong.” You let out a nervous laugh and mocked his age lovingly.

“I’m not allowed in the Natural History Museum.” He shook his head and bull-frogged his cheeks. “Yes, it was this particular body. No, I’m not risking it.”

You bit your lips together and started shredding bits of skin off with your front teeth.

“Of course.”

He looked over at your list, an eyebrow cautiously raised. The Doctor tapped at one of your ideas.

“Kew Gardens is relatively near here. We can go there.”

“After you, then.” You smiled and got up, offering in the crook of your arm.

His face was unreadable, but inched towards amused. At least that was your interpretation. Sometimes faces were tricky for you, but this man was no exception. Often it seemed like he was human enough to interpret things at face value, sometimes things felt like maybe faces worked differently where he was from.

As if you didn’t feel like enough of a freak…

But he understood you always. Even when you didn’t understand you, yourself. Which came in handy, all things considered. Most people seemed to interpret your words and actions differently than intended. But not him, not the Doctor.

It was almost like he was inside your brain.

Maybe that was a perk of dating an ancient alien who had been around the block. He’d already been domesticated.

Good.

Whatever it was, you’d take it!

As he took your arm and you headed out to Kew Gardens, you felt positively swept away.

Over eight billion people on the planet, and who knew how many more out in that big, mad universe he traveled.

And here he was, with you!

How lucky you were.

#personal #doctor who #doctor who fanfiction #12th doctor #peter capaldi #12th doctor x reader #reader x 12th doctor #you x 12th doctor #12th doctor x you #self insert #give it up for gwen cooper yall #teacher student #yipeee #i wrote this

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deadbeatbirdmom · 6 months

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Personally I don’t expect team rwby to solve all bigotry, but I’d like to see them make any sort of attempt to at least begin to change something? Even relatively small scale?

The SDC seemed like the perfect opportunity but nope,

And maybe don’t kill,of characters like sienna and have characters like Robyn hill who are actively trying to combat class inequality get competed into fighting Salem instead

Movies like nimona manage it I don’t see why rwby can’t

This is the last time I'll be answering an ask to do with these issues in RWBY. I don't feel that there's a satisfactory answer, and certainly not one that I can provide. I've mentioned something along those lines before, but I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt that you're not the same anon and didn't see my posted answer.

I recently reblogged a post about these issues, but that doesn't mean my answer has changed. That post basically said there is no simple fix, and that means it isn't possible to do in RWBY, unless it was a fictional fix that wouldn't work in reality, which would be disrespectful.

I'm not sure what you expect four teenagers to be able to do, even small scale. They're good at fighting Grimm, but that doesn't mean anyone's going to pay attention to them about anything else.

Ruby's lucky at least some people listened to her broadcast about Salem, but that's connected with Grimm.

Weiss was the SDC heiress but ended up having that taken away before she could do anything good with it, and actually doing anything would have had to wait until her father was no longer in control.

Blake persuaded Menagerie's faunus to form a militia and help save Haven from Adam's corrupted White Fang, but that took a serendipitous attack on her parents and their house partly burning down. She can't command that militia to do anything else.

Yang would struggle to persuade anyone to do anything. The last time Remnant at large saw her was during the Vytal tournament broadcast, apparently breaking Mercury's leg unprovoked. The CCT is still down, so chances are most people have no idea she was set up. I dunno, maybe she could intimidate some sense into people?

I'm not sure when team RWBY would have had time to do anything while in Atlas. Ironwood kept them busy. Were they supposed to take down or reform the SDC with the one night off they had? If they'd tried they might well have found themselves arrested, the SDC and its Dust is rather important to the Atlas military. And then where would they be with their goal of getting the second Relic from the Atlas vault?

As for after things fell apart with Ironwood... As important as these issues are, avoiding arrest and doing their part to help get word out about Salem, or helping Mantle and then rescuing Oscar had priority.

It's not the reason they've done it, they just happened to fall in love, but I guess it could be argued that Blake and Yang's romance is some sort of proof that faunus and humans are equal.

After Salem is eventually somehow defeated, I can imagine at least Blake working with or even leading the reformed White Fang and campaigning for faunus rights. I'm sure the rest of her team would help her if there's anything they can do.

But survival against Salem has to come first. So a huntress like Robyn Hill doesn't really have any choice. There won't be any world to improve if Salem isn't stopped.

As for Sienna, take that up with Adam. I'd much rather she hadn't been killed off too, but there was no other way that was going to end between them.

That's the best I can do, anon. I'm well aware it's not a great answer. I can't provide one. I don't think there is one.

I haven't seen Nimona, I don't have a Netflix subscription. Maybe I'll watch it the next time I want to rewatch She-Ra. I've read the Nimona graphic novel years ago, but I don't remember bigotry being solved in there. Unless you meant an attempt being made? I need to reread it.

Edit: this got long and I forgot about a read more cut until now. Apologies!

#Ask #Anonymous #RWBY #team RWBY #RWBY speculation #Bumbleby #mentioned Bumbleby anyway #faunus rights #ensemble RWBY

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marshmallowprotection · 5 months

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Seven and mc with abandonment issues? Ngl the apartment days would be rough for me despite understanding damn well where his reaction comes from. Its already bad when i tend to overanalyze people's word and attitude towards me and think maybe im the one being sensitive over small thing

Saeyoung would hold a lot of guilt in his heart over his actions after learning about your fears. He never intended to hurt you. He wanted to show you that being with him would make you miserable, and even though his actions were wrong in every sense of the word, he thought it would be for the best. He witnessed his brother who was supposed to be protected, in a state of pain and agony the likes of which he had never thought imaginable, only because he loved him and wanted to protect him.

What could stop the same fate from befalling you?

He made a promise to protect his brother and that promise was broken. What would happen if you decided to trust him in the same way? What if you were used against him by the agency? What if you were used against him by the same people who tortured his brother?

The only thing he can think about is what happens when people get close to him, and how much better off they would be if they never knew him in the first place.

That was the only reason why he wanted to push you away. He didn't want to push you away, but he thought that would be for the best if knowing him would give you the same suffering it gave his brother. It's hard enough to see his brother in pain, but to add you on top of that? He wouldn't be able to go on after that.

He doesn't want to abandon you, and it's the last thing on his mind. No matter how much he tries to be cruel to you with every agonizing second, his lies fail to convince you, don’t they?

He isn't a good liar when it comes to his genuine feelings for you. He couldn't lie to you even if he wanted to. He could lie to the rest of the world but he could never lie to somebody who makes his heart flutter like you do. It's a vulnerability, and as much as he's afraid of those, he has to admit you make him feel more alive than he has in his entire life. Your smile is everything to him!

There are plenty of people in this world who want to destroy him, and if they find out he has any vulnerability in his life, they will come after it and take it away before he has the opportunity to protect it. Why do you think he spent so much time on Meowy?

He purposefully created that robot to protect you even if he couldn't be in your life firsthand. It was supposed to make you smile and give you peace of mind when you couldn't have him. He made you a gift of his love... that he was afraid to admit because you could die. Meowy is a testament to the fact that he could never leave you behind.

But, it doesn't remove his wrongdoing... you know that and so does he. What would happen in this situation is that it would reach a breaking point for you, and you would shut down in a way that he could not turn his back on.

The sound of your agonizing tears as you plead with him over and over to understand why he would want to leave you behind after spending so much time with you, so much happy time with you, would be enough to cut through his walls like a knife. Why? Why would he lie to your face with awful words?

Words that feel more and more like the truth the longer he says them even if you know better in your heart!

His poker face can only last for so long, after all. You would think that would make him want to pull away, even more, to go through with his plan, but his heart is much more soft than he wants to admit, and you have brought out a part of him he thought was dead. The part of his heart he thought he threw away long ago. The part of his heart that wants to love and be loved.

That would be the moment when he embraces you like he wanted to from the very beginning. His arms tight as you hear the sound of his sputtering heart for the first time as it speaks the truth. The truth of his love.

"I'm sorry, [Y/N]. I know that doesn't excuse what I've been doing, but I'm so afraid of losing you. I'm afraid I’ll lose you if you get too close to me. Look at what happened to my brother. It's hard enough to think about what happened to him right now and know that I am to blame in some capacity, and if that happened to you, I don't know what I would do to myself."

"I don't know what I’d do… I’d lose myself to my misery and anger. I thought it would be better if I pushed you away from me so that you could stay safe. But, I see that pushing you away hurts you and me way more than it would if I fought for us."

"I'm sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you, and I'm sorry but I don't know how to be loved by another person. I want you, and I want to keep you safe, and I don't know the best way to do that. I know you want to look out for me, too, but for you to look out for me, I have to be able to look out for you. I don't want to leave you. I want to be with you forever. I just need time to figure out a way to make that work. I sold my soul already, and I don't know how to get it back. I want to give it to you…"

#mod kait #ask #mystic messenger #anon #mysme #mysticmessenger #mm #saeyoung choi #choi saeyoung #luciel choi #choi luciel #seven #707

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freshlyrage · 3 months

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Running Like Water

Chapter 21

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I’m bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 9.4k

a/n: Whoa haven't seen you guys since last year... LOL. This is very angst filled, sadly its our last vacation chapter. Back to reality but Javier and Andrea try some new... stuff... this chapter 🍑. If it isn't your thing thats okay!

But (no pun intended) on a less sexy note, Andrea meets some family this chapter.

Sorry for the wait was busy this month having a winter break fling (that's so like me) but back to reality.

Thank you for being so patient with me always.

This is for @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

The two of you leave the studio shortly after Edmond threatened to wring Javier’s neck for the first date joke, well it is our first date. Before that though you were honestly eager to get out of the place, you needed him back in the hotel room, you needed to thank him with your mouth, with the warmth pooling on the tiny thong under your skirt. While Javi explains to Edmond that you are indeed the girl he had vented about when they first met, usually this would have made you a blushing mess but you were practically squirming in the stool. Your earrings catching the light casting a red reflection against the wall. Your eyes follow the light around the room as the two spoke, your mind drifting in places that could only be described as filthy. Edmond jokes that it had all worked out in the end, it took you a moment to catch up with their jokes. You had disassociated but Javier picked up on it and ushered the two of you out of the studio and back out into the Louisiana heat.

“I have dinner reservations so behave.” He whispers before grabbing your hand in a sweet possessive hold. Your brows quirk slightly before leaning into him completely. He seemed to be hyper focused on getting the two of you to the proper place at the right time because his eyes went all squinted while he walked you through the busy sidewalks.

“I am behaving.” You were, sure, maybe it was a bit rude of you to look around the room aimlessly while Javier caught up with his old pal, but you truly didn't mean to. There was something about girls like you, girls who craved to be wanted–once you get a taste–insatiable is the only word to describe you. So insatiable that you couldnt give a fuck about a dinner date with Javier Peña, it was so like you. So like you to feel so overwhelmed with love, a feeling so foreign, so strong that now you can't think of anything else but the thought of him inside of you. Good lord you were soaking.

His cheeks were still red, either from tears or the high sun. Regardless he looks down at you with a teasing smirk that quickly hardens and turns into a disapproving head shake. “I saw you out of the corner of my eye, querida. Wiggling around in that stool.” He says in hush tones, you break eye contact in slight embarrassment. You know that annoys him, when you shy away because you feel his body stiffen. Poor Javi, you think. One day he’ll understand you fully, he knows you better than anyone else but he still isn't used to your self-destructive tendencies of self-manipulation and constantly wondering whether he truly likes you. And despite today being the greatest testament of his devotion for you there was still that part of you that was a girl without a father. How humiliating? You also know he is never truly upset with you, even when he stands up straight and huffs a breath, it's always followed by silence, his space to try to figure you out.

There's a lot to learn, six years apart is too much for anyone. You've become four different people in these six years.

By the time the two of you entered the warmly lit restaurant you've given your brain some time to think of meeting your grandmother tomorrow, now thats a thought to have you quit squirming. The desire you felt so heavily only half an hour before left in an instant at the thought of what's to come tomorrow. As you settle in your seat the thought of your father not being alive crosses your mind, instinctively you touch the bee earrings softly.

You feel Javi watching you with intent, a small frown on his lips as he adjusts his belt buckle while he sits. If your stomach wasn't doing turns from impending doom you would have made a big dick joke, you suddenly didn’t have it in you. You quit touching the earrings and let out a shaky breath before grabbing the menu.

“What’s wrong Andrea?” He asks, stern, almost like it's a statement. Like nothing is not an answer he’ll accept. He knows something is wrong.

“I’m really nervous for tomorrow.” You admit without any tooth pulling. Uncrossing your legs beneath the table, Javi nods firmly he knew how to react to you when you admitted things like this. There's nothing you hated more than someone screwing their brows in concern and pity, he never did that. He just nodded, solid, dependable and able to listen. He doesn't respond so you continue. Brushing a piece of hair from your face you sip the water given. “I also don’t want this weekend to end. I don’t want to go back. I especially don’t want to go back if tomorrow goes bad, I don’t have it in me to explain that to my mother.” There it was, that other part. The sheer embarrassment that could be awaiting you, the possibility of being humiliated by your paternal family and coming home to a mother that will look at your tear stained cheeks and say, I told you so.

Javi clenches his jaw at the slight shake in your voice, and it’s so like him. He puts his large hand palm up at the small table between you two. Your heart grows in your chest and without hesitation you place your own small hand over his. Manicured nails circling the dry lines there, his thumb rises and wedges between two fingers tickling you a spot you never knew tickled. You choke out a giggle and dug your nails into his palm, he winces in fake pain. Ow, he grumbles. You take his hand entirely and lifts it to your face, pressing a kiss to his palm. He smiles, his dimples deepening and his eyes crinkling. “Sorry.” You say and kiss his palm again, “Sorry for attacking you with my nails even though you’ve made me the happiest girl in the world today.”

He shakes his head in a shy little act, wow, you wanted to jump his bones again. “It’s okay I like it when you’re rough.”

“Oh shut up.” You laugh, pressing his palm to your cheek before placing it back down on the table. “And I’m sorry for ruining the mood with my sulking.”

“Don’t apologize to me.” Javier furrowed his brow in disapproval, “If tomorrow doesn’t go the way you plan I’ll extend our weekend, give you time to recover here. Don’t care if it’ll be obvious to everyone that we’re together, we’ll figure it out.”

Your lips quirk in a satisfied smile, you’ll take it. You were minutes away from suggesting the two of you stay in New Orleans until the damn wedding Saturday. The two of you were so in love it was hard to be logical. Hiding your face a smidge as you lift the menu to cover your crimson cheeks. “Okay, that's fine with me.”

“God I wish I knew she was that mean to you–I’m like regretting being her friend a little bit.” You were slurping down pasta with a frown, hearing stories from high school about Lorraine. The more he uncovered, the more you regret giving her grace. Every new piece of information was followed with Javier’s attempt to excuse it. You suppose the both of you have some things to learn, you wanted to tell him that her actions and his faults were not in the slightest bit comparable. Like;

On valentine's day she got drunk and purposefully poured wine on my favorite sweater in front of all my friends. But she was mad because I skipped sunday mass with her family the week before.

Or,

I was really upset with her cheating, but she blamed it on the time I called you pretty in front of her. I guess to her that was emotionally cheating.

You sat in front of him with your mouth agape, or you cursed under your breath before shutting yourself up with carbs. “None of that is normal, you shouldn't make excuses for that sort of behavior. I doubt she does when she complains about you to other people.” You say while dabbing the corners of your lips free of marinara.

He laughs and nods in agreement, “You're right, I want to be the bigger person though. No need to be upset on my behalf querida.”

The 2nd glass of wine gets to you slightly as you roll your eyes aggressively, feeling awfully protective of your boyfriend. You remember which sweater it was, it was the white knitted one he wore to his last christmas at home, he would wear that thing to every holiday. “Whatever, god forbid I feel defensive over my man.” You whisper and bring your glass to your tinted lips. Javier’s lips quirk at its corners, you know he loved hearing that come from your mouth. You noticed it just thirty minutes prior when you told the waiter, my boyfriend would like the same. You picked up on the way he shifted in his seat when you called him baby. For the past 10 minutes you had been slipping the pet names slowly and scattered, he was getting worked up. Look who needs to behave now.

“Hmm.” He huffs, annoyed, turned on, grumpy and everything else.

You bite back a tipsy smile, slipping your pointed heel up his calf slowly, until the outsole skated his inner thigh. He shakes his head and looks to you through a half lidded gaze. “Relax.” His voice deep and striking, loud enough for the other patrons to hear. You nod in agreement and attempt to move your foot back down but before you could make the effort his hand falls between his spread legs and holds your delicate foot in place on his lap. Your breath hitches in your throat, your leg pulled so still your skirt rides up. Saving yourself from the breeze, your left leg tightens to cover the soaked fabric now exposed.

With his right hand holding your heeled foot and his left hand on the table, he grabs his glass and continues at his drink. Your breath is hitched in your throat, you feel his stare. His eyes glued to your chest, your nipples pebbled under the fabric. You don’t listen to his demand, incorrigibly you lean forward releasing some tension with the press of your legs and the hip movement required for you to move closer. “Why are you being so mean?”

His eyes narrow, “Mean? A weekend getaway, museum date and those pretty earrings.” He teases and you nearly laugh, nearly, truthfully you were so turned on you couldn’t care to play these games. You’ve had years to do that. You survey the restaurant, there had only been about ten tables and each paired with a couple or a group of men in suits. Your eyes dart to the family bathroom, Javier follows your line of sight with a smirk. No families, you note. Less guilt for what you’re about to do.

You drop your heel from his hold and wipe the corners of your mouth, “Well, you’ve spoiled me Javi.” You shrug, adjusting your small cardigan to cover your pointed nipples. He laughs a hearty chuckle. Your face falls to straight seriousness, hair readjusted. His nostrils flare at your hardened look.

“Rotten.”

Your eyes shrink with a slight hint of petulance. Like a little girl not getting her way, absolutely not. Eyes scanning the room once more, “Well if you’ll excuse me. I’m going to take care of myself in the bathroom.” You huff before rising to your feet. Feeling the table to your right shooting a glance at your figure. With a strut of false confidence, your knees were buckling with fear he won’t follow you and just think you’re upset with him. It’s the last message you want to get across after he poured his aching soul to you at the gallery.

Javier watches you walk to the bathroom and close the door behind you. Well he watches to make sure no one else was watching because the pencil skirt you decided to wear curved perfectly below your ass, making it apparent to everyone that your behind was a tight little thing. Rolling his tongue against his cheek he waits a few seconds before pinching the bridge of his nose.

He knows you, he knows you’ve been pent up since the gallery, since he put those earrings on you. How could he not know, you practically screwed your brows in bliss every time he took a look at you. Truthfully on their walk to the restaurant he was still reeling from the entire first date thing, he had never lost his composure like that—to cry in front of someone— to cry in front of you. He’d be a lying dog if it didn’t scare the living shit out of him. So scared that he nearly thought about just saying fuck it and getting down on one knee and proposing to you with some fucking earrings.

He knew it before. He knows it now that what you too have is forever, beyond time and circumstance, there was no way you two could live a life with other people. What a discovery to make on a first date.

Anyway those feelings of sheer terror and love, they’re the same in his head, were quickly replaced with every tiny possessive nickname you let leave your red bitten lips. He was fully hard by the time you decided to play footsie with him, he wondered if you felt the strain against his pants through your heels. He decided he was going to fuck you into the mattress when the two of you got back to the hotel but he supposes you had different plans.

His eyes glued to his glass he picks it up and downs it. “Fuck it.” He murmurs before wiping his mustache, adjusting his shirt and heading for a straight bee line for the bathroom.

You smile softly at him through the mirror, “I was starting to think you didn’t get the memo.” Javi nods, his mind set. Silent and brooding behind you. Your confidence seemed to have faded with each passing minute he contemplated whether to follow you or not. “I was afraid you thought I was really upset-Oh Javi.” You shriek the second he tosses your skirt over your ass. Instinctually bending a bit over the sink. Dropping to his knees, his dirty thoughts win as he slightly sinks his teeth into your tan behind. You giggle at the absurdity of it all, but he doesn’t care what it would look like to anyone else. He was a man utterly in love with his girlfriend, and with how soft her ass was.

Javier kisses each cheek of hers and laces each kiss with a bite then a firm tug. Kneading and kisses, his large palms have finally found something that he didn’t completely engulf. Why was it so sexy when his hand covered your entire breast yet even sexier that your ass finally dwarfs him? He’s never been a man above worship, above religion, still he had never believed in a god so clear, so real until he came home and had you. Was it normal to be this enthralled by a partner? Was it just the honeymoon? He really couldn't care anymore about those questions because god, Andrea, he murmurs like a prayer.

With your skirt piled at your hips, the tiny little red thong was fair game for his needy kisses. His teeth graze the string that just barely covered the one part of you that’s untouched, you buck as his fingers spread you open, the loose string falling to the side to expose you there. “Anyone ever touch you here?” He asks with his left hand holding you open, and his right thumb skimming so close. He knows the answer. He wants to hear it. You screw your eyes shut, a small whimper escapes your parted lip. Your heels slip on the tile, he lets up his left hand to hold you steady.

Tossing your hair over one shoulder and attempting to look back at him you whisper, “Never—I want to try but-”

But I’m not sure I want that sort of first time to be in a restaurant bathroom. You think.

He knows exactly what you mean, he knows how delicate this part of sex could be, he knew it's a lot more than a heat of the moment decision. He’d never, not in a place like this. Though, he had other ideas, “Another time, can I taste you here at least.” He taps at your cunt and you eagerly reach behind and slide your panties to the side. Javi smiles when he’s met with his girlfriend’s swollen cunt just for him. Good lord, he did not want to think about having to sneak around again. For the two of you to be limited beyond your control the second you step home. He wondered why he couldn’t just rent a home out here just for the two of you, just until he leaves. Will they be reduced once again to just twice a week, all pent up and hand-covering mouth sex in his bed. He tried not to think, tried.

One thing the two of you have grown fond of is him eating you out from behind. This position was just like the second time, in his room on memorial day. You look over your shoulder, the cardigan slipped low to expose the tan shoulder of yours. With lidded eyes you stare into Javier’s soul as you reach your hand between his face and your bent form. With a shy blush your delicate fingers run across the seam of your cunt and slowly up to skim the tight hole that's been the object of Javier’s deepest fantasies.

“You can taste here too.” You quip, you weren’t sure if people even did that. You could be making a fool out of yourself but you knew after his fingers got close to your asshole, you felt a new pit in your belly. Javier’s eyes raised and he suddenly felt like a kid in a candy store. Never in a million years did he ever imagine a world where you agreed to something like this. He mumbles deeply, Jesus Christ. You didn’t have to tell him twice.

He plunged his face into your cunt first, quicker and less teasing this time, they were in a public bathroom for crying out loud. His licks and sucks are wet and aggressive. His head shaking in between. You drop your head into your chest and the slow build of release. If he kept up this pace you’ll be writhing in climax in thirty more seconds. You're not sure you were ready for the moment he proceeds to eat you out just there. For a moment you wonder if this is really something people do during sex, you’ve had girl friends who have tried anal but none of them ever mentioned their boyfriends eating them out there. You wonder if you're the first people to ever do this- or it’ll feel good at all. You surely weren’t ready, the second his heavy tongue slid up to your place untouched, and you weren’t expecting such a feeling.

You shrieked loud enough for the guests to hear. Javier’s heart sank and paused for a second while you covered your mouth.

“I’m sorry-I’m sorry.”

Javier’s brows tensed, “Is it too much?” He asks lowly, looking up at the back of your head. You screw your eyes shut, and nod.

“No-I just didn’t expect for it to feel so good.” You whisper as if to do damage control for the shriek you let out, with your head dropped in shame you feel his chuckle between your cheeks. Okay, he laughs and continues again. You’re more prepared this time–yeah you two definitely aren't the firsts to discover eating ass. This has got to be popular.

His head moving skillfully, his chin skimming your cunt along with it. Shaking his head and devouring you whole. And oh, it was a feeling so good you were afraid to know what it would feel like if he applied more pressure than a tongue back there. You never saw the appeal in anything to do with anal—suddenly—you suppose it takes the right person. You always told yourself you’d never try any of that unless you were married or something— well close enough. Your knuckles go white gripping the porcelain tops. He parts for a second and spits directly on your ass, parting you to watch it slide down onto your cunt.

“You like being a dirty girl? Yeah, Andrea?” he gets close again to clean up his mess and good gracious you were close. “Letting me eat your ass like this? Used to think you were so shy—now look at what you’re letting me do to you.” He dives in again, this time reaching his entire body leans with it. His hands gripping the tops of your thighs while he moves from your cunt to your ass and back-and back again.

Your forehead presses against the mirror and you catch your own eyes for a moment and you’re absolutely disgusted by the sight. Disgusted in the best way possible. You are filthy, you love it—you loved this. You bend further to give him better access to your clit and you’re a goner. Your ears ring and you fall limp but like always he never lets you fall. He’s at his feet again, pressing your knees together. He unbuckles himself and relieves his aching cock from their confinement. You open your mouth to tell him to put it in but he speaks first.

“I’m gonna come, just let me—fuck.” He grabs himself and fists himself over your bent body. “Let me fuck your thighs really quick—please princesa, let me—” He grits and you bite your lips at the thought. Your heart skips a beat or a few, so many firsts. Why is the thought so enticing?

Okay—please, you murmur and without hesitation he drags his cock between your folds, collecting slip before thrusting. He wipes his eye as an attempt to readjust his blurry mind. The post orgasm clarity will hit him soon, it didn’t matter now he was too pent up to care. He humps you from behind, his length squeezed by your thighs and his tip nudging your overstimulated clit. There was something depraved about the action, being used in this way. Being used and loving the way it feels.

And he’s driving fast, pre-cum spreading at the tops of your thighs. How he made sex so enjoyable was beyond you, all you could do is softly sigh and moan, nearly drooling from your mouth falling open. “Javi please– I-” Perhaps your moans were a bit too loud because his hand snakes up to your mouth, effectively muzzling you. You babble incoherent begs and moans into his dry palm, while his other hand death gripped your hips for stability. It didn’t take many thrusts for you to be coming again, his hand on your hip quickly snaked to hold your thighs tighter against him and with that he finished over the tops of your thighs, painting you perfectly. His own little art piece.

There’s a ringing silence for a moment as he slips out from behind you. You catch your breath, wiping your tears away. Head heavy, too frazzled to adjust to the situation. Javier just ate your ass out in a restaurant bathroom and fucked your thighs. And you came twice in ten minutes. Jesus take the fucking wheel.

“I-I’m sorry I’ve never done anything like that before.” You almost expect for those words to come from your mouth but it aches all the same coming from his. You turn around to him, knowing the sight is probably ridiculous, tear stained cheeks, a wrap skirt hiked up your legs and his come spread at the tops of your thighs.

Your eyes soften watching him fumble to tuck himself away. You could see his jaw clenched, you knew when his mind was on overdrive. This is one of those moments. Like he’s drafting ways to apologize to you.

“I liked it.” You admit in a whisper.

His brows shoot up and he looks up to you. The color in his face returning, as he fastened his belt. “You did?”

You blush, your eyes falling to your thighs. “I did, we should try more stuff like that… it was… really hot.” You admit, looking up at him through your brow bone. His nostrils flare and he’s nodding.

“Okay.” He nods sternly in the same old grumpy Javi way.

Your lips twist at the silliness of it all. “Okay…”

“Alright.” He’s still staring at your thighs.

You giggle, “Jesus christ Javi! Clean me up!”

He jumps in place, “Right sorry.”

It’s safe to say that the two of you were quite full after the whole restaurant debacle. Frankly your last night should’ve been filled with endless love making but Javier could sense your nerves. After tipsy kisses and stumbling into the room the reality began to set in. You struggled to sleep that night, afraid of waking up to a packed room and a car ride to your grandmother's home. He slipped into the shower with you without any advances, you wouldn't mind it all but he reads you, he washes you without lingering touches and only a few kisses. The two of you find a rhythm, drying off, getting into his shirt and some panties. The two of you exchange stories before bed, who knew he was such a softy like you.

“I’m always nervous before meeting old people.” You admit. Its a stupid quirk of yours but man do the elderly intimidate you. You chose teaching because you knew that dealing with the elderly would be far from that area. “They can be so judgemental and old fashioned, its painful– every conversation.”

Javier strokes his hand against your arm, “You're rambling. It's time for bed baby.”

He was right, you had no need to bring that up, you just really didn't want the day to end. Why is that you were so afraid of the thing you yearned for your entire life?

The morning is quiet and gloomy, it rained the entire night so the sky was all gray clouds with peaking sun. The entire room was packed by the time you sat up to rub your eyes. Your stomach is so uneasy you could only take four bites of the waffles he called in for you, no syrup, just butter and powdered sugar how you like it. He’s quiet too as he folds your clothes. You check out at twelve and load his car again. He kisses your temple before opening the car door for you. You nod a silent thanks before you settle into the car seat. Head leaned against the window. Reaching into the dash board for the map, finger tracing until it stops at the road circled labeled, Andrea’s Grandma, you smile to yourself thinking about Javier at his desk circling and routing a way to her grandmother's home the night before their trip.

With fear of rejection you fiddle with the bee earrings in your ears, grounding yourself with the reminder of Javier even when he's right next to you.

The home was fairly close, only an hour away from the hotel. Javi smokes two cigarettes with the low sound of the road below the tires and slow soul music filling the car. It was then when you realized Javier was nervous too. You think of what he told you at La Belle Forme, about his panic attack. It was rare for silence to exist between them not like this. You kiss his knuckles, a few kisses, you suppose you found solace in comforting him.

When the car slowed down you weren't expecting to be approached with large estates with rolling grass and bald cypress trees casting down like curtains. When Lorena called you pictured an elderly woman in a small home, you never envisioned a large white home attached to other small homes. You looked down at the map. 4289 Coventy Court, “Its the small house, the big one is 4287.” You point, it all seemed to be on the same estate though, you'll still have to walk through this strangers beautiful front lawn in order to get to your grandmothers. Javi nods, shutting the car off. Your hands drop to play with the ripped ends of the map.

His palm comes over to your lap and grabs at your fidgeting hands, his hands always cold and dry and large. “¿Estás segura de que estás lista?” He asks so softly, he did that often, reassuring you in spanish. You inhale deeply, looking at your connected hands and then to the house peeking behind the large trees. You nod.

And there it is, right In front of you— a physical manifestation of the answers you’ve prayed to hear. Everything you've ever wanted to know. It could split you completely, could kill you, but it could free you. A small part of you hopes it splits your heart in two so that you're prepared for heartache in November at the hands of the DEA. Who knew Javier could hurt you more than your father? When did you give him that power, you suppose it’s when you realized it was love.

The two of you climb out of the truck and make your way through the cobblestone path, “I’m not going to get shot out here right?” Javi whispers and you cant even itch out a giggle from the coil of nerves in your chest, he doesn’t joke anymore. He trails behind you while you lead the way, like you know where to go— you haven’t had a fucking clue. With every tap of your sneakers on the ground you felt panic rise higher in your throat.

You could feel Javier behind you, keeping his steps slower than your own. Giving you space you weren’t sure you wanted. You appreciated it nonetheless. Like he was ready to run and get the car if anything hurts you. He’s 3 steps behind you once you close your eyes shut before knocking on the light blue door. Your eyes surveying the plants lining the white porch. “¡entra!” A distant voice calls from beyond the door and its the same voice from the phone. Something in you bursts, your eyes dart to Javier in fit of panic. Fuck it. You open the door to the home.

The astounding amount of pastels blind you. An entire rolling carpet of white at your feet, Javier holds his arm out before you nervously put your outside shoes inside this museum piece of a home. You saw her too, out of the corner of your eye. Sat in a wheelchair with hair pressed straight down to her hips, with a book in her lap – the sound of birds chirping splitting your ears as you unlace your shoes with shaky hands. Javier seemed to have slipped his shoes in record time because his socked foot took a step inside before he bent down again to grab your shoes and tossed them outside.

Standing up straight the woman in front of you widens her eyes at the sight of you, her smile splitting her face in two and you arent sure if anyone had ever looked at you with such melancholy before. She was a beautiful woman, well kept from what you can see it seemed like she had a lot of help. For once in your life you feel strong, chin up and nearly smiling. Lorena fully smiles and there it is–You can finally pin point where your bright grin comes from. "Ven aquí! Get over here before I try to walk to you!." She shouts with that same accent you remember over the phone and with that you're padding over to your grandmother. Embracing her for the first time. Receiving kisses to the side of your head, and caresses and you don’t feel sad anymore–or nervous. You sat in front of her and Javier stayed in his lane, quiet and observing. His hand on your while she explained how she found your number.

“My greatest friend Griselda moved to Laredo about a year ago. I had been pushing the poor woman to look through the phonebook for your name– I didn't know if you had our last name or hers. Whatever I found it and tried calling but your mother– you already know.”

You sure did, the conversation was what you expected it to be. She attempts to understand what your life has been like this whole time. You tell her your mother owned a boutique and that your brother was on his last week of being a bachelor, she teared up at that. You almost forgot she was around when your brother was just two years old, she laughs when explaining his biting problem. Her eyes fall between the two of you a few times, you and Javier and your joined hands. The way his were in your lap and how your nail grazed the strong tendons of your lovers hands. She kept the questions Andrea central.

Did you end up going to college?

Yes, University of Miami. I’m a middle school teacher.

She laughs and claps her hands together, she tells you taught for thirty six years. Your heart nearly bursts in your chest.

So are you living at home?

For now, yes. I’m looking to move soon.

Do you like your brother's wife to be?

Oh–yeah. She’s been my close friend since I was in middle school.

She nods, turning to her left to grab her cup of tea. There had been two cups left out. She let you in on how she kept the place so tidy, her home nurse Ms. Cristina, who worked for her every day. She points to her bird cage at the corner of the living room which shows the only non-tidy part of the house full of bird seeds on the floor, They also take of me.

“And this–.” She smiled, waving her finger in between you two. “How did you two meet.”

“Oh!” You laugh, Javier cracks a smile. “We-”

“Uh-No. I want to hear his story. Ha estado sentado ahí en completo silencio, habla, hijo.” She cuts you off in the only way elderly people know how, gracefully and silly all at once. Your cheeks burn red. Absolutely intrigued to hear his explanation. His face softens for a moment before he breaks into a deep chuckle. Rubbing his eye in that same nervous tick that he always does.

“Oh–We were just kids when we met.” He was instantly interrupted by a yelp from your grandmother.

“¡Ay, por Dios! Qué romántico. So you two have been together since then?” Perhaps it was rude but immediately you and Javier look at each other and let out a cackle in unison. Leaning into his shoulder as you giggle while your grandma sits confused, wondering what was so funny about her question. “What-What’s so funny?” She says with a hint of humor in her own tone.

Javier shakes his head and replies, “It took us close to a decade to get here.” His eyes flash to yours, soft and gleaming. He looks at you like this often—always, but there’s a different look, something close to pride. Truthfully, he was overjoyed to talk about you to someone, especially to someone who by some crazy phone call and last minute trip—is your family.

Lorena smiles, sipping her tea with a nod. Her eyes floating to something behind you, above your head. You don’t turn to see what has made her eyes misty and youthful for a moment. “Ah.. one of those. I’m familiar, promise you. What is it that you do Javier?”

He straightens up at the question like it shattered the small world he’s created with you. “I’m a DEA agent, I’m assigned in Colombia starting this November.” It was firm, devoid of laughter and pride. Like a soldier being questioned about deployment. Your grandmothers brows screw in sympathy the second he mentions being away, her eyes falling to your own. You tried to be strong but the reminder chips away at your spirit each time. Five months away. Your eyes drop to your knees.

“Ah… I see.” Softly she points her chin high, a necklace falling out of her cashmere sweater with the movement. She nudges behind you, where her eyes fell previously, you and Javier turn slightly. The image of a man in black and white, eyes light and a stern look. Clad in military attire, and a nose so similar to your own. You into the eyes of your grandfather for the first time. How could you have forgotten? You haven't even asked about him, his name–anything. You notice then that the entire hour you have spent in your grandmother's home you hadn't once thought of your father. Something about the eyes in the photo seared you, What if my fathers dead? “Your grandfather was also named Lucas. He was my high school sweetheart but we broke up after he decided to leave me for the war. Listen, I respect our military but–not for him–absolutely not. He was always leaving, estúpido, estúpido. We split when he was apart, it wasn't very easy to be in contact like it is now. But… I didn't wait, I found someone else but mija… the second he stepped foot on american soil we were married and I was pregnant with your father 3 years later.”

Javier placed his hand on your lower back at some point during her story, thumb softly rubbing into your thin t-shirt. Your eyes threatened to betray you. You know why she chooses to tell you this story, you suppose this sort of thing runs in the family. Leaving and watching the ones who leave. “He died before me, that absolute idiot.” She sniffles and shakes her head. You turn back around, facing her–she had already wiped her tears away. And she does it just like you, palm first and hurried. Who knew the sight of your grandmother crying could fill you with such warmth, you suppose you were never emotional in the same way your mother was. You wondered where it came from, you guess you can say you've got it from your grandmother.

“Oh, I'm so sorry.” You choke on your own words and she waves her hand in a its alright but it isn't motion. She grabs her teacup once more, her eyes stuck to yours until her brows shoot up in shock.

“Oh–your father. It's so like me to get wrapped up in myself, I’m sure you have a million questions. I can settle your nerves and tell you that he is very much alive.” She laughs, she really was a kookie old lady. “He also knows that you’re here.”

“What?” You and Javier blurt simultaneously, the two of you leaning in on your knees. For a split second your cheeks heat at the thought of Javier being this invested but that completely flies out the window while your grandmother nods with a smile.

“This is his estate, you think a school teacher could afford all this? His home was the big one right next door. He’s nervous but he is expecting you. I thought I’d give him time to… speak for himself.” She nods and settles her cup down once more. “I’m not trying to kick you out but he’s probably bouncing his knee for the thousandth time over there”

“You’ve gone non-verbal Andrea.” The two of you kissed your grandmother goodbye with promises of a second visit in the next few months, Javier was micro analyzing your every move. How after the bomb was dropped you had frozen in fear and only muttered 4 more words. Her brows furrowed as the two of them approached the back door of her fathers home. Javier knew what this meant, what this all means. He sees what its doing inside of you, your body is rejecting the truth that, A. your father is alive and B. He seems to be doing quite well for himself. Your grandmother gave the two of you instructions like you were on a secret mission.

Go through the back door

Javi, it's best you wait in the hall.

He will most likely be sat in his office, first door on your right.

You just nodded with a knot in your throat. Javier watches you lead the way in silence and it's killing him to know how much this is taking a toll on you already.

You have eaten in on yourself already, absent in the eyes.

He remembered fathers day being a particularly rough day for you during your summers. How you would call Javier’s house but he’d have to explain that he was on his way out fishing with Chucho. He can't think too hard about all of that, he might crumble himself and he had to be strong, he had to be that for you. You step up and look over your shoulder, nearly tripping–Javier catches you at your elbow and you are trembling.

“Sorry, I’m trying to catalog all the questions I have.” You chuckle and there isn't a bit of humor behind it, just nerves and all. “His house is way too nice. This door knob looks like pure gold.” You attempt a joke but Javier can't seem to laugh either. And like the brave girl you are, you don't hesitate this time, you twist the doorknob pushing the door open. Ahead of you was a grandiose hallway, white paneled walls with tiny intricate floral designs.

The door to his office is already in your view, a long ottoman right outside the door like a waiting room. It felt nothing like a home, like a sterile office or a Homes and Gardens spread. Javier selfishly thinks of how their home will look one day, it will never feel this cold, not in the Louisiana heat. He’d settle down with you in Louisiana. He decided this weekend, he’d like to watch you bask in under the cajun sun with a belly.

The two of you stand side by side in front of a door with no imperfections but a carving of the letter L on the wood. Your brows furrow, “Okay.” You exhale, turning to Javier knowing this is where you part, knowing that whatever goes on behind those doors could hurt you in a way he fears he can never fix. So maybe he’s just as scared, he nods silently and firm. Still putting his act up for your sense of security, he knows you can read right through it, he also knows you love that he does this for you.

He can see it on your lips, see the 3 words, the words he knows you tried to spill out twice on this trip. He shakes his head and grabs your face in a chaste kiss. Your hands hold at his shoulders as you rise on your tiptoes to return it deeper. He doesn’t let you stall, he steps away. “I’ll be right here.” Javier juts his chin toward the ottoman, and he watches you disappear into the room.

Sitting down with a strain in his lower back from the drive and his body's reaction to the thought of the ride they have to take once this is all over. Javier leans his head back, his eyes facing the ceiling. Touched with a heavy weight and the lingering thought of maybe one day having one of these moments with his own mother, if she’s out there. He busies himself with an attempt of remembering her face, drawing her in white lights behind his closed eyes that he was too damn scared to open, scared to be present. Scared of not being strong enough for you. Afraid of opening his eyes and seeing a blackhole ready to swallow him whole, engulfing himself in his own grief that he’s shoved down trying to be a man for you.

He sees your face at first, angled cheeks he first sees you now, a longer face–lips full, a nose with a tiny slope and teeth always threatening to split your lips in a smile. He also sees what you looked like in 1980, rounder cheeks, the face of a shy girl. He remembers your cheeks always being pink. His chest constricts when he pictures that same young face full of tears at fault of his own fears. That's when he makes out his mothers face, eyebrows a light-light brown, so light they always seemed barely there. Her freckle below her eye, her eyes clad with glasses and quirk between her brow. Of disapproval for all things involving their life as a family.

Javier snaps his eyes open at the thought. Straightening up, attempting to now hear what was being said behind the door. His eyes adjust to the bright light of the hall, it really felt like a waiting room. Javier blinks away the floaters.

In front of him is a single picture hung on the wall.

It's an image of your father, he sees the resemblance immediately. But that isn't what catches his eye. Javier's heart drops nauseatingly fast at the sight of two young girls-twins, in the photograph. And in cursive in the far corner,

Best Dad Ever

He’s up and hugging you before you could take in that this is really happening. The hug is tight, it's unfamiliar, it's strangling and you attempt to hug back to make it feel loving but it just isn't there yet. You want to pinch yourself, you've dreamt up this moment. You hugged your own aching body to sleep countless nights wishing for a hug from your father and now that it’s here, you can't even register the difference between him and a stranger.

He holds your face for a moment with his eyes misty, your chin quivers then. He was a splitting image of your grandfather. Eyes a hazel, his hair shaggy and long. Like he doesn't belong in a home this large, you close your eyes for a moment. Overstimulated with the situation, your father cradles your face for the first time since you were a premature newborn. He even calls you beautiful a few times and you’ve never felt stronger for not melting into a puddle of tears. Perhaps you were just too happy.

It was the happiest moment.

You sit in front of him and he has a sheet in front of him. You couldn't be bothered talking about yourself again but you do anyway, he leaned in with every small fact. He beams with a laugh when you tell him that little Frankie was expecting a baby and wedding. He claims that these past years he wondered what you were doing with your life, once your eighteenth birthday approached he says he stayed up the entire night wondering what this next step would look like for you.

“It seems like you've done well for yourself–I'm sorry Andrea, I’m sorry I wasn't there.” You were the only person in tears in the room but you couldn't be bothered to be embarrassed. The tears were only joyful, those sorts came rarely for you. You allowed them to flow without shame.

It’s okay dad, it's okay. You whisper, “My mom–she says she left because you were–”

“An addict.” He cuts. “I was, I got clean the second she fled with you. I called my mom and she sent me to a rehabilitation facility in New York. It’s where I lived most of my life, where I built my business. Where I met my wife.” He smiles to himself and you smile too. What a privilege it is to be loved by someone else. “She isn't home today, told her we would be meeting today and she decided to not overwhelm you so she’s out. I hope you don’t mind.”

You reach out for the box of tissues at his desk, dabbing your eyes. “It's okay–I'm sorry that my mom did that– leaving without notice, it-it kills me when I think of it.” You wipe again as more tears fall, god why was it so difficult to talk when crying. You think of the day after your birth often, you think of your father asleep in a hospital chair, you think of him waking up in an empty room. Your heart chips away slowly but then you look at his face again and he looks just as confused.

He straightened up and his jaw clenched. You were to oblivious to notice the change in his demeanor.

“Andrea– I knew she was going to leave– I- I encouraged her to… I was too sick. I wasn't ready then– I waited six years until I had kids.”

You swear the feeling was akin to being cut by the sharpest blade, sliced slowly down your sternum and the weight of the world on your shoulders. There you are, in front of your father, bleeding out, being drained in front of him. Your head feels light as everything you thought you knew turns on its head. Your eyes fall to your knees, staring into the denim of your pants, trying to register if any of this is real.

What? You whisper.

“Oh Andrea–Melissa–your mother. She sat in that hospital bed and cried, she begged me to get clean for you, but she didn't know how all of that worked. I had to do it for myself, and I did. I asked her to leave. I wasn’t ready, sweetheart.”

The name stung, you sat there, you were an open wound in front of your father as he explains that he made the choice to reject you.

Your chin quivered in a new way, no longer happy. No longer tears between teeth, “I’m really confused.”

“I forgave myself for that decision in rehab. I found god and I absolve myself from that guilt through years of healing, Adalina and Adare’s birth helped me free myself from that decision. I knew you were taken care of I had to–”

“I-I wasn't taken care of. I wasn't loved. I was ignored–I-I spent the holidays alone. I was raised by a nanny–When-when I fell off my bike I relied on my brother's best friend to take care of me. I needed you but I was never angry at you for not looking because I thought you were left completely in the dark.” Each word came with a sob so deep, you weren't sure your body could handle a heartbreak like this. His lips thinned and his brows creased in sympathy that didn't feel genuine. You had sisters, sisters with names awfully close to your own. "Did-did you know where I was?"

"I had you address for several years, yes." Cooly he says it. “Andrea–I'm really upset to hear that. I had assumed you were okay, you never looked for me.”

You shook your head with closed eyes, tears staining your neck. “I shouldn't have to–I’m the child…” You whined, regressing to a little girl, you couldn't help it. This was the worst pain you've felt. “I needed you– I needed a dad.”

“I understand, I understand the importance of a father in a young woman's life–I've got two of my own–But I cannot be sorry for the decision I made twenty two years ago.” How could he be so cold, so analytical. How is it that he talks about the situation like he’s just an observer?

“Three, you have three daughters.” Your voice sobers, its anger this time. You were so upset that he couldn't see this the way you do. Your eyes burn into his and there isn't anything, there's nothing. You began to wonder how he could be the product of a woman like Lorena. “You had me on January 14th 1964, you watched my mom carry me for 7 months before she couldn’t– I’m your daughter too.” You spit without a shaking breath.

His face tightens and he nods, “Technically speaking yes-”

“Oh give me a fucking break!” You cuss, jumping to your feet and he jumps in his seat.

“Please do not cuss in my home.”

You were red hot, fuming as your eyes finally took in the catholic iconography throughout the office. And the many, many pictures of your sisters. Wiping your tears with your palms, fast like you want to hide from him that he even made you cry in the first place. “You are a pathetic person. I feel so ridiculous having wasted so many years wanting you. I’ll see my way out.” You turn and he’s following you, repeating your name but no apologies. You swing the door open and Javier is there at his feet already, with a tense face. You see it, he heard it all and he’s angry.

“Please Andrea, let's just pray together.”

You cackle and glance at your boyfriend. “Let's go Javi.” You storm past him, swinging the backdoor open.

The second the rolling front yard and southern sun hits your skin you begin to sob. Chest wracking yet silent as you walk away from your fathers home. As you walk away from someone else's father. You chest hiccuping as you blurily lead yourself down the path, Javier's steps quickening behind you. Your cheeks hot and stung with tears, head pounding you knew you looked like a swollen hot mess. You hug your own shaking body all the way to the car. Climbing in the passenger's seat with more tears.

You aren't sure if you could ever be okay.

Javier circles the car with his heart in his throat, hearing each word and feeling the cuts deep. He sits and thinks, she won't be able to handle this. He knows you, he knows you enough to love you. He knows you are strong, he also knows no child is strong enough to face rejection from a parent. So he stares at your father before you have walked out the home, he contemplates killing him there. He wants to hurt the man for making you ache so badly. Call him crazy or irrational, but he thought it for a split second. Thought of hurting him.

Javier decides taking care of you was far more important than his anger.

He walks behind you,

It felt like a huge joke, like a fuck you. The beautiful scenery of the estate, the birds chirping and the world still spinning, and you're there, hugging your own body while you silently weep ahead of him.

He doesn't start the car when he gets in. He stares ahead, sick to his stomach at the sound of your cries. His eyes glued to the steering wheel, his peripheral catches you shifting to lean your temple against the window. The car was hot, sitting out in this sun. Hot enough to burn you once your elbow touches a belt buckle but the heat felt trivial. Javier glances at the map, prepared to drive back into New Orleans and extend their weekend, take you away for more days. Allow you to be detached for some more time, this was far too much for you.

“I want to go home Javi.” You whisper between tears, “It was…dumb of me to look for a family out here.”

There it was again, your eagerness for a complete family. For someone to see you, understand your pain, he heard you beyond that door. He heard you talk about being left alone, celebrating holidays with only yourself. He heard you begging for sympathy from your own blood from your own family. He heard your voice so small when you begged him to see you as his own child, as his own family.

Javier panics, he’s so overcome with emotion he isn't sure he has the words to comfort you. He can't get out what he's tried to tell you all weekend. You will always have a family with him, you no longer have to search. But it doesn't come out from his mouth.

Instead, he reaches his hand over to you and between his thumb and his pointer he rubs the earring he gifted you. The earring, the reminder. Without words he tells you, I’ve got you. He watched you the past two days rub the thing as a nervous tick, he sees your brows furrow and your chin quiver once more before you cave and lean your head against his hand. Your cries regulate and calm with each pass of his thumb against the delicate little bee in your ear. Javier watches you with blurred eyes and he remembers meeting you for the first time. He remembers putting bandages on your knees and peeling oranges for you and diving into lakes and biking, and blushing and kissing and leaving. And And And,

“Andrea, I really, really love you.”

#javier peña #javier peña x ofc #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #javier peña smut #ao3 #fanfic #javier peña narcos #javier pena x reader

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perfectlyvalid49 · 7 months

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Sometimes I feel like this blog is more Judaism focused than I really want it to be. Like, I am Jewish, but that’s only one aspect of my personality. I’m also interested in politics and linguistics and nerdy pop culture stuff and a whole bunch of other things. And I want this blog to have space for all of that.

So when I spent a ton of time late last week fighting with an antisemite, I told myself that when I was done with him (or as it turns out, when he was done with me), I’d take a break from posting about Jewish issues for a bit. Just like, a week where I’m just reblogging stuff that makes me laugh or an interesting language fact or something like that. Y’know, happy stuff.

He blocked me Friday, and on Saturday, Hamas attacked. And I’ve got a big mouth, so I can’t not say anything. Maybe when this is all resolved I can post happy stuff, but for right now, I need a place to talk, even though I’m struggling with what to say.

I guess the first thing I should say is that I feel terrible about what’s happening. Because what’s happened so far is bad, and what will happen next is even worse. Israel will take its vengeance; innocent Palestinians will die. The friends and families of the victims on both sides will be radicalized and the violence will continue. I hate it and it’s stupid and I wish there was an easy way to stop it and I know that there isn’t.

And I want to say that I support the Palestinian people. The way that Israel treats the Palestinians in Gaza is inhumane – it shouldn’t be allowed! But Israel treats them that way because before they did, you couldn’t get on a bus in Israel without worrying about being blown up. That shouldn’t be allowed either! Everything is complicated. Both sides are full of people who just want to live in peace who are being screwed over by a minority who won’t be happy until the other side is gone. Both sides have valid points, both sides have done terrible things. Anyone who is telling you that it isn’t complicated is either woefully uneducated about the history of the conflict, thinks one side does not deserve fundamental human rights, or both.

And after saying all that, I guess that I should make it clear that I’m still a Zionist – I believe that the Jewish people have the right to a self-determined state, and I think that Israel is probably the best place for it (I did not say a good place, I just don’t think there’s a better one. The best of a bunch of bad options is still the best). Having said that I’m a Zionist, I still hate what Israel’s government is doing and has been doing. Netanyahu is a monster. You can disagree with a country’s government and still think it has a right to exisit.

If you think that all Zionists are evil (and you’re still reading this), then tell me a better solution. Where should Jews go to be safe from governmental persecution? Or should they be denied that? If so, why?

And that’s the other thing I want to talk about. Every Jew I know is watching this with feelings of grief and horror, and the response from the left seems to be some variation on, “Israeli civilians deserved this,” “go back to where you came from,” or “terrorism is OK, actually, as long as it’s against a colonizer state (but not the one I live in).” And it’s soul-crushing. It is possible to be anti-Zionist without being antisemitic, but it seems like right now people aren’t even trying. The only good Jew is a dead Jew, and now that there are a bunch of dead Jews, everyone is celebrating.

I keep thinking about this video that I watched at school when I was a kid about the conflict. It was probably the mid 90s and the video showed Arab and Israeli kids playing together with a voice over from an interview with one of their moms. And I remember her saying that the kids playing together was good because then they would be friends, and when they got older they wouldn’t want to fight each other because they would remember that they were friends. I know now that it was probably a propaganda video, but that’s still what I want. I want leadership for Gaza that isn’t a terrorist organization, I want leadership for Israel that isn’t a far right authoritarian nightmare, I want Palestinians to not be locked behind a wall, I want Israelis who don’t have drills for when the rockets come. I want everyone – EVERYONE – to be able to live a life in peace and I want two little boys with different backgrounds and religions that both include a history in Israel to be able to play in a field by a river and be friends.

And if you don’t want that? Fuck you.

#israel #antisemitism #long post #i'm having feelings #thanks for letting me ramble #probably a lot more reblogs on this topic are incoming

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kitanaijin · 4 months

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feathers in the attic | freakebana | part i. | blueberry trainwreck >> blackberry kush

yandere keigo takami x reader, goldfinch. words: 4567. explicit content. 18+ MDNI

He longed for a world where heroes had too much time on their hands.

No one knew better than his wives how he’d rather spend his days.

please be mindful of the ample warnings as we're all responsible for curating our own fandom experience✌️ this chapter contains neuro spice, chronic pain, non-consensual fingering, degradation, involuntary & forced orgasms, physical abuse, throat fucking, enforced sobriety, and mention of the breeding plot within the harem.

“Would’ve made a hell of a name.”

Lazing over a bed of flannels and plumage, you flip through the well worn pages of the magazine until you’ve found it.

You can still remember when an idol graced the cover. It’s an old issue from 2018 with a midsummer run, scratched to ruin ages ago. The full shoot was left virtually untouched along with the accompanying article.

She’d posed so pretty, selling her story to perfection. Not that you could fully appreciate what she was promoting.

These types of interviews tended to lose their impact, dated as they were.

No intimacy. No stakes or connection. No urgency in your step to rush to the nearest theater to support the little girl with a dream.

The farthest you could take yourself was the toilet.

Not quite the Library of Alexandria—but oh, how the loss of context tore you apart.

Within the confines of these four walls, time was a construct at your most lucid… a prison when you were dragged past the depths of your dark and twisty recesses.

The nights he’d sweep your broken body from the floor. Hold you in his crimson embrace and manhandle you to his whims. When all the fight left your lungs so you couldn’t even scream, let alone tell him no.

He stole your name twice over in a swinging pendulum of perception; Goldfinch for times you were his sweet girl… Bluebird when you were less than pliant.

It bruised him to see you scorn his affections, so he called you in kind.

He’d pin you down. Pry you apart. Fuck himself into your cunt and soul, leaving you a mere ragdoll to his desires.

You’d only ever been what he had demanded of you.

He wanted a victim, you could damsel with the best of them. This was a show that would go on with or without your approval.

He’d feed you. Rape you. Dry your tears.

Anything more than that, he can stand to spoil you.

Could’ve been hours before you’d feel him leave your side. Days, even. You’d hardly know the difference—only that his side was barren, cool to the touch as you washed a hand over the sheet…

Here one minute, gone the next. Pain emanating and all your own.

Without the organic warmth of sunlight on your cheeks, you’d never feel the day break for yourself.

He took everything from you. Your power. Your will. Your life.

The room was set to a constant low light, controlled by the flick of his wrist and a tablet.

Never natural and never enough, same as every inch of every room of this godforsaken place. A damn menagerie, down to the fucking temp.

dry heat so you won’t catch cold… fans in the warmer months.

He kept you maintained. Albeit depleted in your current state, but no one was about to accuse the bastard of neglecting you.

If they ever found his nest, that is.

Would it matter?

Would they care?

White knuckles hold the spine as the water bottle at your side loses the last of its tepid edge.

You can’t think about it. Mainlining dopamine where you could manage would have to get you through the worst of it for now.

Vivid colors punch a sigh from your lips, even muted in the dark like this. More than satisfied, you’re relieved. Manic thoughts swirl that someday he might deem the material obscene. He was a jealous man, mercurial by nature. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility for him to tatter disagreeable content beyond recognition.

Maybe leaving the article unmolested was a gesture on his part, a bygone offering.

Perhaps he’d just overlooked the whole thing. It could mean nothing.

Fingers graze the gorgeous arrangements until you can match the scent into your mind and memory. Citrus and pome. Florals you haven’t thought to conjure in years.

Freakebana.

You take your time tracing the header with a wavering touch before devouring the article.

Composition. Purpose. How to style your very own lovely item.

In another life you’d be all over this shit. You and your quirk.

Don’t think about it.

It’s a striking contrast that never fails to overwhelm you…

Sensual. A serenity that follows the warm blush of anthurium piercing the understated pears. Surreal. The next image featured a bit of Queen Anne’s lace and soft peonies over an orange. Vulgar.

The dissonance of rotting fruit and lush botany was breathtaking. The writer was on the fucking money in the best of ways.

You had some trouble placing the last of the flowers through the hurricane wreaking havoc over your joints and muscles. Breath catching, the aches come roaring back.

You’ve passed the eye of the storm.

Just as well, you’re wrapping on your daily indulgence anyways. Spoil yourself now and you risk the brainrot of whatever envy you’ve got waiting in the wings.

You tuck the magazine under the mattress with a frown.

“Seriously.” Falling back on the mattress, you set the heels of your hands over your eyes. “Like taking a shower and having that perfect comeback all those hours later. So goddamn irritating.”

A voice cuts through the vent, where her wall meets your ceiling. “Never took you for the hero track.”

“Never said I was.”

You hone your focus on the neon numbers at your bedside, blinking away one hour to the next.

The clock reads five fifteen. He’ll be darkening your doorstep soon enough.

A distant cry tickles your eardrums. You curl in on yourself, tremors washing over you with a groan. The contractions in your belly spread like a wildfire of pain past your thighs and calves. It’s all you can do to pull the sheet over your shoulders and bury yourself deeper.

Five thirty.

You’d thought to ask if she heard anything on her end but Magpie had long grown quiet in the room beside yours. It’s all you can do to force your bloodshot eyes open.

You have to stay awake—you can fall apart when he’s taken to the skies or buried six feet under.

Five fifty…

Before sleep can take you, a near melodic taps hit your ears; the sweeping fingers of a key code just beyond your reach.

Keigo lets himself inside, his feathers shutting the door faster than you can think to act.

Not that it matters. You couldn’t fight him off if you’d been training from the start of your confinement.

Your eyes remain locked on the time. Jaw tight, you commit to refusing him.

Five fifty one.

He’ll be late if he doesn’t hurry the fuck up and get face time with every wife. There was a ritual to these things.

Timing had to be down to an art form otherwise the fastest man would have to be late to the day job. Usually a punishment or two.

Hate to do this, he’d say. Lies spewed past a tight jaw and a strained cock.

Rather than present a front of urgency to the fact, he only lets out a long suffering sigh at the sight of you.

You hear his voice before you ever make his face.

“I know you’re awake.” You tense under his avian gaze. “Was it another bad one?”

He drops the tray of breakfast and meds on a dresser you’ve always found woefully redundant. Then he’s crossing the room, shameless in his liberties over the unclaimed space.

The mattress dips beside you. His body runs flush against your back as an unwelcome touch traces shapes over your belly.

“Finch…” A plea on his lips, a warning to your ears. “I’m sure you don’t want to make a bad time worse. You know the kind of stress I’m under. C’mon, Songbird. You gotta give me something.”

Silence begets silence. He frowns in the darkness, ever waiting on a poised reply from his captive bride.

“Tell you what. You talk to me. You behave, I’ll see what I can do on my end,” he coaxes with his fingers carding through your hair. “We can have family game night. Maybe a movie?”

“So generous,” you rasp.

He hums into a modest shrug, pressing a kiss over your shoulder. “I thought so, at least.”

Smug fuck.

“You still have Starling on the suppressants?”

His wings posture around you reflexively. You have only a second to relish in the chaos before his grip is tightening. He pulls the hair he’s buried himself in.

“I thought you were gonna be a good girl,” he accuses.

“That was your mistake… You’re the one who wanted me to sing.” Spite bleeds from your lips like a curse.

“Really now.” He quirks his brow, almost impressed. “You know what, fair play.”

Drawing your head back for a torturous moment too long, he keeps you in those eyes right there with him. Molten and tragic—fixed solely on you.

You catch your breath in the pillow, heaving into a series of coughs.

He passively regards you as the strewn feathers do his bidding. They haul you from the mattress, raising you up with ease. Remaining on the bed, Keigo knocks both wrists under his neck to lean on.

Hands above your head, he has you bound and restrained midair. You watch the idle plumage sharpen in your periphery. Only two.

You can’t muster the fucks it would take to panic… Never mind the pleas to get out of this.

The aches are ever present, blossoming upwards now. It grounds you, pins you to the moment as the feathers keep you locked in place.

“Here I wanted to have a nice breakfast with all you pretty birds on my day off,” he grouses.

“The pain I’m in is killing me. Day in, day out. You leave me to wither and rot without a thought to my suffering. Not me, not any of us.” You’re absolutely raging beneath his phantom hold. “Fuck your day off.”

The blades move closer. Just a nick in the right place, that’s all it would take to end this nightmare for you. There’s nothing else for him to take.

“As much as I appreciate your blessing, I was already planning on it.”

One slice. And another. A mere whisper of cloth that leaves your breasts exposed.

Both straps of your silken nightdress come undone on his order. They turn the remaining scraps to ribbons until you’re completely nude for him.

Rising from the bed, his wings bristle ever so.

Keigo takes his time sauntering towards you. Rounding the bed, he pops a grape in his mouth. It only takes one fallen feather trailing behind him to swipe pills from the very same tray.

“Not like either of us have anywhere to be. Why don’t I make you really sing, hm?”

Close as he is, you find yourself flinching. His calloused touch ghosts across your skin, breath fanning in tandem over your cheeks.

“What d’ya suppose I’m gonna find when I get down there.”

“Drop dead,” you curse.

Your head is knocked back into the wall before you even register the slap. A practiced hand slips inside your mouth to silence you, taking his time fucking you with his fingers. Never once does he break stride with the hand that keeps time over your pulse.

Your cheek burns. His fingers gag you as he smothers the sounds of protest at your airway. Emboldened by the sounds at his fingertips, his breath stutters over your cheeks as he ruts desperately against you.

He releases you. Presses on, low as he dares to tread in these little hours.

Down your chest.

Past your stomach.

Quick as a flash, he pulls himself from your mouth leaving a trail of spittle that runs down your chin. The absence leaves you fighting for your life, choking on air one minute and a scream the next.

Deft fingers bite into your throat. You groan, arching into his touch.

“Tell me why you’re so interested all of a sudden,” he bids. “Couldn’t possibly be out of concern for me…”

You want to tear away from him. Claw his skin, his eyes. Those feathers aren’t granting you any favors—palms bleeding stigmata, their loyalties remain solely with the master who controls them.

You’re in a losing fight with the pain.

You’ll have to ride this out until he kills you or tires from the game. Fuck this and fuck him.

“Star…ling,” you grind out.

A weak swing of your legs is thwarted with ease.

He loosens his touch some. You hurl your answer at him while there’s a fraction of a chance he’ll leave you alone.

“Lend me her power or up my dose… I don’t care, just give me enough to end it.”

This gives him pause. He hovers over your collarbone. You watch him swallow.

“I can’t live like this anymore,” you sob. “The pain is unbearable and you’re not letting me heal myself. No sunlight. No relief. I can’t sleep unless you put me under and it’s never enough. It was for me, Keigo.”

He sends for a feather to fetch his whims. Rests the heel of his waiting hand against your mons.

“That’s what you’re going with?”

You hang your head. “It’s the truth.”

His lips lock around your aching nipple just as he dips inside you.

He spreads your thighs, appraising your legs with a scrutinizing eye and a wandering touch to match. You’d scream if you thought it would help.

Keigo slots your legs over his shoulders. Sucks a bruise into your thigh, cups your cunt. You jolt into the assault.

Slow to start, he presses down and teases you with his relentless strumming. His middle finger laps your juices, fucking them deeper into you every time.

Thighs shake. Your stomach tenses, bracing for the forced release.

His wrist twists in quick succession. It’s all you hear. He latches on your clit, a steady staccato of tongue and teeth with his forearm shining with sweat and your own wetness.

Your breath catches on a wail, riding the orgasm for all it’s worth. The last of your release comes pouring out of you, stuttering the last of the stream all over his face; a shining testament to an evil man who knows just how to give migraine-shattering head.

The hormonal gremlin that haunts your attic almost wants him to fuck you. Best taken as a sign you’re ovulating… better to stay away.

It’s like he can smell the apprehension on your skin. His eyes stare up at you in the dark. Not in awe, rather a cautious advantage.

Ever the predator, he watches and awaits the moves of the prey.

You’re still a writhing mess on his tongue. If you could bury yourself in his hair, you would bear down with a white knuckle grip and a piercing cry to match.

Your arms tingle in the restraints above you. “Keigo… stop.”

He does so. Pulls away from you entirely.

You slump to the floor. A groan, “Keigo—what the fuck?!”

The scruff on his chin glistens in the low light. He smiles down on you, aglow as an angel.

Even Lucifer had wings before the fall.

You flinch when his palm reaches your jaw. It takes you by surprise how gentle, how earnest it was. Almost reminds you of the beginning.

Never enough. Not really.

Of course you knew who he was. Hawks was renowned on and off the job; a top hero during business hours and a notorious playboy after dark. He frequented your flower shop when you were earth side.

Still, he never touched you. He didn’t have to when he’d been grooming you from the start.

You came. He called. Service with a smile, even with eyes locked on the scene of him devouring the deepest parts of you.

He left you to your own devices for the most part. One day you got a little too familiar, too comfortable with the back and forth, letting it slip that you’d been living with chronic pain for years.

And maybe you shouldn’t have reassured him that your form of management is often self medicated, supplied by your plant quirk…

But he looked so sad.

Little did you know the ammunition you’d be giving him. A warrant signed by your own hand for a drawn out death, long and tortuous.

Coming to, you gag around him.

“Take it,” he demands. “Shut your whore mouth and take it.”

He’s got a fistful of your hair and you can’t get a breath in while you’re warming his cock.

You push on his thighs but he only tightens his grip, pulling you flush against him.

He stutters above you and then slows.

Stays still inside you, caresses the bulge taking purchase down your throat.

One roll of his hips. Then two to follow. He came on your tongue before he could see to the third.

“Don’t you dare swallow yet.” He twists your nipple, further scrutinizing you as he nods towards your quivering lips. “Open up, let me see.”

You do as you’re told. In the dark like this, you don’t have the luxury of foresight. You could never have known that he had you where he wanted; primed with a grape and your cocktail of pills and vitamins.

He takes the grape in his mouth, tracing your pout with his thumb. After a few moments pass when he drops a languid pool of spit over his come. You choke on the intrusion and are afforded no time to recover. He presses two tablets on the pile before making you take it all.

Palm across your mouth, his thumb caresses your throat. He’s got his fingers censoring you, guiding you.

You swallow with a retch and grimace before taking the rest.

He watches, expectant. Keigo snags a circular style, day of the week pill dispenser from an errant feather. Snaps the lid open and presents you with your haul for the morning.

“Go on,” he urges.

You present your palm to him… It dawns on you both that you were bleeding still.

“Damn it,” he scoffs. Runs off to a trunk in the corner and comes back with first aid. Regards the blood with a rough double take. “Fuck.”

“If it’s really that bad, maybe you should stop doing it. Food for thought.”

He turns your hand over, alcohol wipe in hand. Doesn’t give you any countdown, just starts scrubbing his scene.

“Fuck,” you hiss. “Son of a bitch…”

“Do you want the vitamins or not?”

“Are they going to put me in a good mood?”

“Ginger, garlic, and elderberry… mostly immune boosting. Best I can do. You know how I feel about you girls and drugs.”

You watch him, incredulous. “And just what does your little philosophy have to say about forcing sleeping pills on your wives so you don’t have to worry about them keeping up, hmm?”

“Finch, you’ve taken your punishment like a good girl.” He nurses his temple where he’s bound to have a migraine as well. “You can take a day off from being a brat, for once.”

You catch him in the low light. Seems he’s nursing a bruise to match. Onto your own scrutiny, his feathers cut you down before the gripe can draw breath.

His attentions never leave the work.

You pry your hand away, cradling the wound with a hiss. “It’s aftercare for me to watch you squirm, dickless.”

“Is that so…” Keigo sounds almost bored. He rolls his eyes, turning up the brightness of the room. “Well today it’s gonna be antibiotic ointment and gauze pads because someone decided to waste time with an attitude.”

Keigo dresses the wounds without dictation. You allow him his silence until an intrusive thought has you groaning.

“What is it now?”

You shake your head. “I can’t. It’s really bad.”

“Say your peace, Finch. I’m only one man and I have all of you to get through.”

You reel back with a wince, more hurt now than the slap across the face earlier.

The hand hangs limp in his own, touch matching his ever softening tone.

“No. That’s not… fuck.” A biting sigh. “I’m sorry. That’s hardly fair… How’m I supposed to call myself the fastest if I can’t even hack time management with my family.”

He returns his attentions to the inflamed palm. Draws you to his lips, all adoration.

“You know you can come to me with anything.”

And now he’s just gaslighting you.

Fingers splay across your neck and jaw… forcing your gaze, forcing your intimacy.

Your eyes well with tears when there’s nowhere to hide. He steals them away with a frown, lingering across the bruises that betray your sleep deprivation.

“Why are you crying?”

You push him with barely any fight left. “Please. Just go.”

As you thrash to get away, he can only fight to hold you closer. The pain spikes in an unforgiving swipe across your abdomen. You whine into his shoulder, shuddering into his arms.

He cradles your head to his chest with a soothing rock. Feathers run down your arms and back, all forgiveness.

“You know what would help…”

He’s the devil at your shoulder. You are fully aware of what he’s about to say.

“A baby won’t begin to fix this,” you break down. He has to strain to hear, this you know. “…won’t fix me.”

The warmth of his kiss bleeds under your skin. He thrums a gentle rap against your arm, just waiting for you to settle.

He shushes you, flying over his crimson helpers for an assist. A damp cloth. Dragon balm. Some medicinal chaser that tasted more like sewage runoff than remotely helpful.

Keigo carries you back to bed. He lays you down, spreads you out. You wince as he cleans his mess. Mercifully, you can’t see him. But you hear him. Feel him.

You make the sounds of him rustling with the cap. It’s mercifully warm on your abused muscles before the cooling menthol hits.

“Tell me the name.” Your blood runs cold as it registers what he’s asking of you.

He must’ve gotten to Magpie during their conjugal. Shit.

You swallow when he serves the crumbs anyways. “Little Birdie told me that our beloved Blue had heroic aspirations of her own, once upon a time.”

His touch roves over your legs to start, working the product into the meat of your thighs. He waits for what must feel like ages in his eyes… but it would never be long enough for you.

“C’mon. You’re really not gonna tell me?”

“Expect an answer, you’ll have to stop talking at some point,” you grouse.

Your breath catches on a strangled wail, meeting no resistance when he flips you.

“Quit your whining,” he snaps. “It’s all I ever hear from you. And fuck me for trying to make this marriage work, right?”

His touch is unrelenting. Prying the tension from the source, spreading his fingers over your lower back.

You try to reach out to him. Make him stop. Bat him away. Fight.

A feather nicks your hand away with the swipe of his whims.

“The name, Blue.” It’s not a grounding request anymore. “You give me the name, this all goes away.”

Starling flashes in mind and memory. If you could sleep, if you could dream—

“Freakebana!”

You curl in on yourself, pushing him with what little strength you have left from this ordeal. With any hope, your pride would be toll enough for him.

The one thing you had, gone in an instant. Precious and private, thoroughly yours. Now it was known to him. Sullied by his acknowledgement. He could twist your comfort and make it ugly—could do whatever he wanted, really.

Keigo was no stranger to it. This would be the least of his atrocities.

He nods to himself in quiet concert, seemingly mollified for now. Keigo leans beside you and presses a kiss over your bruising cheek. His idle touch traces the thrumming pulse before throwing the baby out with the bath water and simply scent marking your whole arm.

“Thank you,” he whispers into your wrist.

When Keigo rises from the bed, you keep yourself small. He crosses the room to the dresser. Out of the drawer and into his arms came the clothes meant for you.

You must have been a sorry sight if he’s dressing you in his boxer shorts and cotton undershirt over the negligée.

Again, woeful redundance. He’d disposed of your clothes in the first week, imposing a preference for nudity and teddies. What little he keeps on hand for himself, the only times your husband is liable to share are rare moments such as these.

Toe to toe, back to back.

He’s more patient coming back to you.

Two arms in each hole, ever minding your head as he finishes with the well worn v-neck. Right leg and the left until you’re left to your relative comforts.

“Just… I want you to think on it, yeah?”

You furrow your brow. “If this is about the fucking baby—”

On hands and knees, he remains unabashed in his desires. It’s an old tune, one he’s carried for years now.

A baby will cure your pain. A baby will give you purpose. A baby will soothe your broken heart.

Each and every argument has been run into the ground. He doesn’t need another mouth to feed, let alone want one. The others had been thrust into the position, far before their time or consent.

You were one of two holdouts, yes. But as ever, he remains a slave to his instincts. There were fledglings in his care and he craved their unborn siblings.

“I don’t want to fight,” he sighs. Scrubs a hand across his face like he actually believes it. “I just need you to know there’s an out for you. One that would make me very happy.”

You restrain yourself.

You let him kiss you.

You feel him leave your side.

Only when the door shuts behind him do you give yourself permission to fall apart.

Head pounding, pulse racing, a death rattle crawls from your lips.

The neon lighting bares down in an obtrusive vermilion that burns your eyes, ever the voyeur to your utter destruction.

#yandere keigo takami #yandere hawks #yandere hawks x reader #yandere keigo x reader #mha. fic #🎟️yandere🎟️#.mine #.freakebana #.keigo takami #.masterlist

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